


Seven Deadly Sinners

by palishere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar Scene, Forced Consent, John Winchester A+ parenting, Light Spanking, M/M, Multi, Non Consensual touching, Non-Consensual Groping, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, blindfold, stolen goods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palishere/pseuds/palishere
Summary: John made a lot of enemies on his journey and three of them have come back to settle the score with his boys.Dean won't tell Jeremy (OMC) where to find an artifact that John had stolen from him so Jeremy sets up a little playdate for Dean and his baby brother.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deeranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeranger/gifts).



_“Dean... I can’t do this... I can’t trust what you’re telling me…”  
That was the moment. The moment Sam Winchester slung his olive canvas duffle over his shoulder and turned his back on his brother, on the Impala and on hunting.   
“Sammy!... Sam!... Sam- Don’t do this!... Sam! We’re better together and you know it! They know it!”   
Dean begged him not to leave, promised they could work it out, but Sam was never going to be convinced. It was just another lie Dean had created so he didn’t have to hunt alone._

***

That was several months ago now and Sam has changed phone numbers twice since that day. He’d been hiding out in a small town for the past two months and picked up working at the local bar to earn a little cash to continue his trip.

He originally hadn't decided on any place in particular but, he got a phone call from some old Stanford buddies that he hadn't seen since Jessica's death, so he decided to head back to normality, back to what he knew. His dreams of a normal life and working as a big shot lawyer died back when he took up space next to Dean in the Impala. But, Sam figured he could head back that way and catch up with old friends.

There were busy days where the service never ceased and good days where there was plenty of business but still time to take breaks in between. Today, the bar hadn’t been all that busy, but three old hunters, friends of his fathers had taken up seats in the middle of the bar, sizing Sam up, recognising him as John Winchester's younger son. "Johnny's boy, yeah?" They called Sam over with a tap of the bar top.

Sam knew them. Christian, a fit young hunter in his early thirties, a friendly smile who liked to stay in shape, he’s easily six foot one, blonde and built. Jessie is in his early to mid thirties, he’s the smallest of the three men at roughly five foot seven, black, short hair and a star tattoo on either side of his neck and has definitely served a few years behind bars before falling into the hunting world.. Then there’s Jeremy, he has a bit of a reputation among hunters, known to be cruel at the best of times. He’s blonde six foot three, short, maintained, blonde beard and hair and in his late thirties he’s also the eldest of the three and obviously the one calling the shots tonight. The three of them commonly hunted together and as Sam goes to collect the empty bottles and glasses in front of them he overhears them talking about a case near town, Jeremy came off a bit strong, grabbing Sam's arm and asked him to join them. It was the way they asked, something in his tone- the words that he used or maybe the way he called Sam _'Johnny's boy'_ That made Sam's skin crawl.

"I'm not… Doing that these days, thanks…" Sam responded twisting his arm out of the others grasp to collect their empty bottles and glasses.

After a few quick shots at Sam's expense, the three misfits left with very little fuss. He doubted that would be the last he’d hear from them. But he hoped it would be a little while since he did-

“Earth to Sam!” His colleague, Sally, waves a kitchen rag up and down pulling Sam from his previous thoughts. She is practically vibrating with excitement, knowing he couldn’t say no to her big brown eyes. Sally is easily in her early to mid twenties. She has a light complexion with a splash of freckles over her face. She has long, straight brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail and smells like peaches. She’s wearing a simple black shirt with beer stains and straight black pants for work. When she smiles at Sam he knows she needs a favour. Again.

“Can you cover me for closing tonight? Please!” She shows her teeth in the largest, most innocent smile Sam's ever seen and his eyebrow lifts in a mix of confusion and curiosity.

“Sorry,” Sam forces a smile to form on his face and laughs. “Yes. You know I can. Who are ya meetin’ tonight? Pete? Kevin?” raises his arms defensively when she starts to wind the rag up, preparing to flick him with it. “Hey!... Hey!” Sally flicks the towel with a quiet crack when it licks at Sam’s forearm. She’s been meeting guys almost daily, getting dressed up and going on endless dates, finding love in a small town isn’t easy though. Hell, it isn’t easy in a large town. Sam would know.

“No!” She yells playfully, her face turning a bright pink. “Lucas…” She says bashfully.

“Oh, the Brazillian man from Wednesday night?… And you’re going like that?” Sam says with a wink as his hand twirls, gesturing at her beer stained shirt. “Go on,” He nods towards the exit with a sympathetic smile, “Go, it’s close enough to close time-”

“Sam, I can’t-”

“ No-, C’mon, go…” He says with a sympathetic smile. 

“What if-”

“Oh- Chester? Yeah- He’s not coming back. Go on, get outta here."

A full chested huff leaves her lips “You’re the best!” She throws her cleaning rags under the bar and snags her purse. “I owe you one!” 

"More like three…" Sam mumbles to himself with a huff as he squirts cleaning product over the bar top and leans his rag into the beer stains there.

Sally is walking across the floor towards the front exit, lifting a few stray chairs upside down to rest on their assigned tables, she reminds him about locking the back door and relining the bins with plastic bags when the three hunters from earlier return, Jeremy, busts the doors open with both hands and startles the young woman and promptly snatches Sam’s attention from across the bar. Christian and Jessie are laughing loudly with each other as they follow Jeremy’s lead. They stride in and Christian clicks his fingers requesting beers for their celebration. 

“Sorry boys, W-We’re just closing up...” Sally says confidently with only a small hint of a quiver to her tone.

“Closing?” Jeremy’s voice booms into the large empty bar room. “It’s only early!”

Sam can’t help but feel a strange presence in his tone and even if he doesn’t pick up on it straight away, his need to protect overrides his sensibility for a small moment. He steps out from behind the bar tucking the kitchen rag into one of his pockets. 

“It’s okay, Sal, I’ll close up here…” Sam says with a reassuring smile and waits for her to move quietly through the mess of hunters, Christian, the blonde six foot one, fit man turns his body to watch her quietly open the heavy frame door and slip outside. “Where are you going?” Sam asks with urgency as Christian heads towards the exit. But, you could have heard a pin drop when he stops and locks the door behind her. Sam takes a shaky breath. “I think you should all just leave…”

“Party’s just gettin’ started, Sammy-Boy…” Jeremy says playfully. Most of the chairs are stacked upside down on top of the tables. However, Jeremy finds one that hasn't been cleared yet and leans against the dining table, both hands splayed out flat against the wooden surface.

“Yeah,” Jessie, the smallest of the three men, says with a laugh. His tattoos peeking out from the top of his shirt as he cranes his neck, stretching the muscles there. “How is the old man these days?”

_’Oh, This is what this is about…?’_

“He’s dead.” Sam deadpans not realising he had rolled his eyes at the question. Somehow he isn't surprised they are asking about him. His father was notorious for cutting corners and upsetting hunters during his journey, but Sam gets the feeling there’s a little more to the story, a reason the three of them are hovering around.

“Yeah- I heard about that, shame.” Jeremy, the bulkiest of the three pipes blandly. He stares at Sam, watching him intently through hooded eyes. Sam is busy scanning the room, he doesn’t notice the bearded man eyeing him down straight away. “I think we should have a little chat about the old man…” He says straightening his back a little.

“And a couple of the depts… He still owes..” Christian barks.

“Depts? … I think you should all turn around...” The tension in the room is high and thick. Jeremy looks at Sam then back at Christian and Jessie with a smirk. The three laugh quietly, a joke Sam was the centre of, but definitely wasn’t clued in on. The threesome stretch themselves out and stalk a little closer to the suspecting Wincehster. “We really gonna do this…?” Sam’s mind thumps hard as all his training starts to form front and centre in his mind, his father’s voice ringing in the back of his mind, the do’s and dont’s of fighting. Jessie has moved to Sam’s far right, Christian is somewhat on Sam’s left and Jeremy is still leaning against the same table, guarding the front door.

_’Size them up, check out who’s closer and try your best to move in a way that keeps the fight one on one…’_

He remembers practicing with Dean, who was easily taller and stronger and far more practiced. Sam remembers his father pinning Dean down when he would let Sam get the upper hand. He remembers what happened when one of them lost. He remembers bloody and broken noses, bruises on the skin and broken bones that took forever to heal. He remembers Dean always taking the brunt of their fathers abuse. Something he’s a little thankful for now.

For all his father's faults. At least the old hunter taught him some helpful tricks. Jessie is smaller, but closer. Sam figures that’s the best place to start. Sam reaches to his back pocket and stares straight at Jeremy who hasn’t moved. He takes a step to his left, getting himself a little closer to Christian as the pair start to close in on him. Sam’s whips the kitchen rag from his back pocket and flicks it towards Jessie, causing a small distraction and buying him roughly three seconds while he lunges towards Christian. He only really needed two.

After a small struggle he manages to knock Christian to the bar floor with a sickening crack. He turns to focus back on Jessie but feels the smaller mans foot kick into the back of one of his knees forcing his leg to buckle which quickly surrenders his height advantage. Jessie wraps an arm around Sam’s throat and thrusts his other hand into Sam’s hair to hold him somewhat still, his arms tightening the more Sam struggles. For a small second, Sam thinks he can twist out of the hold when Jeremy steals his attention:

“WELL!” The man in charge booms from the staff side of the bar as he slaps both his palms on the wood. “Who wants a drink?” 

Sam shifts his vision to Christian who is now getting to his feet and making his way back to the front of the bar, he pulls and twists his body in a vain attempt to break the hold, but, Jessie has a strong hold of him. Apparently size doesn’t matter, but Sam already knew that. Christian stands in front of him now and kneels a little to come face to face with the young Winchester. Sam raises an eyebrow at him, watching proudly as blood slowly pours from one of his nostrils. It doesn't seem to bother him too much, he just wipes the blood away.

“You’re gonna regret that…” He states simply with a nod and together they manhandle Sam and drag him across the wooden floor, hoisting him up and pressing him to the bar. Directly in front of Jeremy. A hand holds the back of Sam’s neck with a firm grip, pads of fingers gripping tightly forcing Sam to calm his thoughts and struggles. Jeremy growls quietly for Sam to raise his arms to the bar.

“So, How about those drinks?” Jeremy says with a wink, his breath brushing against Sam’s face. He grabs himself a glass from under the bar and pours the first of many and swallows it down in one hit. 

“Think about this,” Sam says through gritted teeth. He pulls and continues to twist in a poor attempt to throw Christian and Jessie off of him, They ignore him and Christian tightens his grip on Sam’s arm. “There’ll be consequences.” But, the pair have a strong hold on him, Sam doesn’t even notice the rope looping over one of his wrists straight away. Jessie presses his head to the bar when Sam continues to struggle, trying to pry his arms in and away from the rope.

“Funny, I remember your father sayin’ the exact same thing,” Jeremy puts the glass under the tap to pour a half a glass taking a small sip, “Right before the old man stole from me and stabbed me in the back.” 

“I’m not my old man...” Sam spits into the wood. Jessie finally let’s him up and Sam whips his head around to see Christian patting him down. Across the shoulders at first, down along his spine, across the band of his pants, the hand comes down specifically hard across Sam's back jean pocket. “Hey- Whoa-” Sam grunts defiant and angry, his face flushes a quick pink colour at the small slap and Sam turns his head to keep focussed on Christian. Jessie is patting down Sam’s right arm and down his sides. “Don’t!” Sam shouts with a warning growl when Christian’s hand goes a little too low, feeling between Sam’s legs from behind.

“Yeah, you ain’t hunting anymore either right? What’s this?” Christian asks tossing a swiss army knife onto the bar. The small metal contraption bounces a couple of times before stopping in front of the taps. Before Sam has a chance to reply Jessie has found the pins at the bottom of his sleeves. “And these?” he asks with a scoff.

“Almost seems like you were expectin’ us” Christian says as his hand comes around the front of Sam’s pants, checking the band for anything other tools.

“Old habits…” Sam growls and turns his attention back to Jeremy who is casually helping himself to the endless supply of alcohol currently at his disposal.

Jessie grabs the swiss army knife and pulls the blade out and before Sam has the chance to ask what he intends to do he remarks. “Might wanna take these away. Case you try to escape.” Sam isn’t given the chance to protest as Jessie forces the blade through Sam’s shirt sleeve and cuts half the sleeve away. Sam tries not to dwell on the torn clothes too much, it’s not like he hasn’t got another five flannel shirts back in his room. Jessie yanks the torn fabric from the rest of Sam’s arms and lets them fall to the wooden surface below.

“Seems a little,” Sam grunts and jerks on the ropes testing for a weak spot, “Pointless. How am I going to pick my way out of rope?” Jeremy passes a drink over Sam to Christian and starts to pour what might be the fourth or fifth glass. 

“Knowing your daddy, you’d find a way” Jeremy smirks and he purposely spills half a glass of beer down Sam’s back wetting the remains of his best blue plaid, “Oops..” He raises his hand so the glass moves up to mix in with Sam’s chestnut hair. The sound of Christian and Jessie laughing surround him and his mind swirls with frustration and hatred for the three hunters. The second he’s free, he’s breaking at least one bone in each of them. 

“You’re not a bright one are ya, kid?” Jeremy says cooly as he comes around the back of the bar where Jessie still has his hand hooked into Sam’s shirt, holding his torso against the wooden bar. Sam keeps his eyes on Jeremy until the older man disappears out of his field of vision. He takes a deep breath through his nose to control his emotions.

Sam feels something tighten around his ankle and Christian quickly takes his attention. More rope. When Christian starts looping the other end around one of the fixed stools Sam starts to fight a little more enthusiastically. He’s rewarded with a hand, Jeremy’s hand getting locked in his hair and the man forces Sam’s nose into the bar with a crunch. And boy, was it a good one.

“There’ll be none of that.” Jeremy states and Christian yanks Sam’s leg out once more being quick with the knots while Sam tries to remember where in the states he is. He feels the blood pooling in the back of his throat and tears flow from his eyes. He thinks about swallowing the crimson pool but opts to spit it out over the bar top. Just one more mess to clean. 

“Here” Christian says as he tosses a small length of rope through Sam’s legs to Jessie and the other leg gets the same treatment, only this time Sam doesn’t yank his leg back and his face doesn’t chip the bar. As the ropes get tighter Jeremy starts to get a little impatient. 

“Your dad pissed off the wrong people, took something from me…” 

“Yeah? What d’ya want me to do about it?” Sam spits, blood now drooling from his lips and down his chin. His mind starting to spiral with thoughts of Dean and how lost, alone and helpless he suddenly feels.

"Well, I dunno boy," He's standing right behind Sam now, smirking, their bodies almost touching. Sam's too busy clearing the blood from his mouth to notice. Poking his lip with his tongue. "Maybe, we'll put our heads together and figure something out, huh?" He presses in and-

Fuck. Sam can't ignore Jeremy's hands grasping his hips and the unmistakable hardness that now presses into his back. Christian's taken a few steps back and Jessie is rubbing his palms up and down the young Winchester's leg.

"Let me know when you come up with something, huh, boy." 

Sam squirms and grits his teeth. Trying to pull away from the now rutting body behind him. Jeremy just follows his movements, grinding into him and soon his hands are gripping and feeling John's youngest boy.

"Wai-" Sam's words get caught in his mouth when Jeremy's hands slip around the front of his jeans. He makes light work of Sam's buckle pulling the belt free. "Wait! Wait-"

"Mmm… You keep moving and i'm gonna slam your face into the fucking bar again…"

"W- W- Where's- Dean? Dean would know… He was-" He hesitates which forces a smile on the three hunters faces. Jessie and Christian scoff and laugh in the background, the extra sounds making Sam's head swim. “He hunted with him…”

"Mmm… Big brother- Yeah-" Jeremy grabs Sam's privates through his jeans a flash of disappointment when he realises the young boy isn't at all aroused. "Yeah, We called on him, gave him a little visit…"

Well. That's all Sam's got. Dean is his trump card. He exhales the air, he didn't realise he was hoarding.

"And?" Sam tries to jerk his hand but the ropes don't offer any way out of this. Jeremy's cock is twitching against him and Sam wants to vomit as the cock twitches against him. "And!?" There's a hand. A man's hand exploring the zipper and button on his jeans, slipping inside and gropping him. And Sam wants to vomit. "What did Dean say?!" He growls. He thinks about headbutting Jeremy, but decides that’s probably not a great idea.

Jeremy grabs a hold of Sam's privates and pushes his hips backwards into his own hardness. "Mmm… Yeah, Deano said he couldn't help."

“Wouldn’t.” Jessie corrects with a huff of laughter.

“Sorry kid…” Christian chimes from the background.

"That's why we came lookin' for you?" Jeremy explains, his grip on Sam’s inner thigh tightening as he feels the strong line of muscles.

"Daddy's little lawyer boy, bet you're real smart?" Jessie joins the conversation as well.

"If- Ngh! If Dean doesn't know then i don-"

"Don't go sayin' you can't help!" Jessie sings playfully, his hand has snaked up inside Sam's jeans and when Sam tries to push on to say that he knew the least about their father Jessie pokes the swiss army blade through the denim and tears a large hole down the pant leg. "We came all this way…"

"Dea- Look- Get Dean on the phone! Don't do this!" Sam is shaking a little, the treatment getting to him quickly, and with each press of Jeremy’s thickened cock Sam is yanking and twisting his hands swiftly doing what dad taught him, look for a weakness, a loose loop that can be used to jerk his hand free.

“Do what?” Jeremy takes a step back. But Jessie doesn't.

"What is it? What did he take?" Sam feels dizzy and he hazily realises that he doesn't even know what it is the three men are after. 

"It's kind of a cup…."

"Yeah, of sorts…" Jessie takes a great amount of pride forcing the tear in the jeans to go right up the outside of Sam's leg, hacking at the band and loops so the jeans can drop in a heaped pile on the bar floor. 

"Hey! Whoa!" Sam snarls, kicking his feet out pointlessly. Not that they move too far. “What the hell is wrong with you!?” The vulnerability is creeping higher in him as his pants are removed and Jessie seems to be having the time of his life. “Get Dean on the phone… I’ll talk to him…”

Christian is on his feet, somewhat circling in the background, whistling and egging Jessie on.”Hope you’re gonna get the other leg too…” He watches excitedly as Jessie's hand explores Sam's skin. “S’he still talking?” Sam feels Jeremy step back in, his hand quick to grab a lump of hair.

“Don’t- Don’t do thi-” Jeremy slams Sam’s head back into the bar and watches as the young Winchester enters a small coughing fit, blood splattering across the bar as he spits. He wants to scream out, but dad didn’t raise any wimps. Jeremy moves out of the way while Sam holds his tongue.

“Aw, kid, flannel is a little out of season…” Christian muses.

Sam is finally learning to keep still, seeing as each time he tries to pull away Jessie pushes the point of the blade to Sam’s skin and hisses a warning for him to remain so, to stop fighting. Sam’s shirts slowly become useless fabrics on the ground around Sam’s feet leaving behind enough of Sam's underwear to cover his junk and a very small sliver of Sam's pride behind.

Jeremy steps back in, pressing the flesh of his now freed, hard cock to Sam's underwear. He leans over the panicked Winchester and puts his phone on the bar. Dean's number illuminates the screen and Dean is taking his damn time answering…

A dial tone forces Sam's heart to skip but the voicemail sends his heart plummeting to the lowest pits of his stomach.

"This is Dean Winchester … Leave a message and I'll get back to you…"

"NO!- DEAN! It's Sam … I- Call this number back.. I'm- i'm in a funky town down South and need-" The phone beeps signalling the end of the call and Jeremy isn't getting any shyer. He slips his hands to the front of Sam's now almost naked form. "Call him again." He demands in a firm tone.

The three men laugh under their breaths, Christian seems to have taken a seat behind them and Jessie has taken to standing beside Sam. He occasionally lifts his arm to touch the young hunter.

"No, Now, You used your free phone call… Now i'm gonna start chargin' ya." Jeremy's hand slides inside Sam's underwear and his hips continue to thrust against the back of him. "Now, Let's start by getting this dick hard…" 

"No…" Sam grunts as Jeremy's thumb slides over the head of his cock. Laughter echoes quietly around him and Sam's chin drops to his chest. "No- Call him again!" Even Sam can hear how weak and desperate his voice sounds. Jeremy’s thumb brushes back and forth while his palm massages the sensitive flesh. “S-Stop…” Sam’s body is rocking back and forth, with only the ropes to hold him, his eyes glued to the plastic cell in front of him and he prays that it rings. 

"Shut up, now…" Jeremy whispers against Sam's shoulder, his free hand runs along the inside of Sam's underwear, feeling the smooth, tan skin of Sam's hip and rear, "Unless you like the taste of that bar…" his hand softly forces the band of Sam's underwear down over his hips to reveal his ass. "That's it, relax into it, Sammy boy…" His hand kneads the meaty flesh, digging his fingers into it as he ruts into Sam’s hip.

“Huh, We have a special request… Look at this..” Christian laughs passing his phone to Jessie. Sam furrows his brows and listens to the pair, he whimpers a little, he feels the blood pulsing south and the all too familiar feeling of his cock as it slowly starts to harden. He hopes the three of them will be too distracted to notice anytime soon.

"What is it?" Jeremy asks, his hand working overtime to force the blood into Sam's cock. “Ah, There you go, good boy, Sammy.” His hand grips a little firmer and he ignores Sam who is jerking his arms, trying to break the bonds that hold him tightly to the bar. “That’s it…” He gets a little lost in the moment and leans into Sam, touching his wet tongue to the middle of the young hunters spine and rolls it upwards, forcing a shiver through Sam. And a small gasp. 

“Here…” 

Sam shifts his vision down to stare at the treacherous cock, his veins there are slowly inflating and his feels his testicles tightening as they shrink. In the same moment, Sam’s throat clenches stopping another gasp from giving away his vulnerability.

Sam feels the hand lift off of him, leaving his cock to throb and pulse. He mostly ignores it and them, as best as he can manage. He squeezes his eyes shut to block out the scene he hears Jeremy’s deep laughter and the three of them discussing whatever came through on the cell. He keeps his eyes closed even when he feels one of the step up behind him again, Grasping his ass and giving the cheeks a couple of twacks. 

“Get us another round, yeah?” Jessie says from behind him and before Sam has the chance to take one last look at the bar he feels the smallest hunter leaning over him, wrapping some sort of scratchy, rough fabric over his eyes and tightening it far tighter than necessary at the back of his head.

“D-Don’t…” His voice comes out in ragged puffs as he tries to maintain his father’s training. He asks himself where they are. “Don’t do this…” He swallows his nerves as his left hand manages to find a weakness in the ropes. Jessie is directly behind him and Christian must still be sitting behind him on the closest table and that only leaves-

“Maybe we’ll dial big brother’s phone one last time to see if he’s gonna pick up…” Jeremy says, his hot breath fanning across Sam’s face, smelling deeply of alcohol.

_‘Two…’_ He knows where two of them are, and only needs to find Christian now. With the ropes weakened, he can start to formulate a plan. Jeremy’s phone is on loud speaker and Sam tries not to lose focus of where the three men are. _‘...Answer the fucking phone…’_

“... This is Dean Wincheste-” Sam’s throat closes up and his mind riots inside like a caged animal.

“You are a prize aren’t ya…?” Jessie remarks, his hand curling over Sam’s ass, feeling the cold skin. Sam tries to step away from the touch, forgetting that his ankles are equally tied, forced apart at just over shoulders length.

His lack of response earns him another smack to his rear and Jessie continues to knead the flesh, tempting Sam to squirm and retort, but nothing comes. Sam’s jaw is clenched and he moves his head as he hears Jeremy move, grabbing extra glasses and filling them and placing them on the bar top. Jessie reaches around and whistles appreciatively at Sam’s length. “You are packin’ aren’t ya…” He laughs. 

Christian joins in on the laughter and he sounds a lot closer than Sam anticipated. “The boys’ll be pleased…” Christian scoffs.

_‘Boys..? Wai-’_

“Wait… This isn’t about the- about the damn cup at all, is it…?" Sam yanks on both ropes, hooking a finger into the weak spot of the left-hand side. Combined laughter of the three men fill the bar. 

“Finally figured it out!” Christian bursts excitedly as a hand brushes against Sam’s cheek, he flinches from the touch and reminds himself that now isn’t the best time to yank his hand free he tells himself that he needs to be patient. He squirms as Jessie’s hand lazily jerks over the head of his dick, just enough to keep his cock interested and he tries not to sink into how right it feels.

The sound of glass being lifted off the bar catches Sam’s attention as he continues to just keep track of the three men, ignoring the telltale signs of panic that have started to rise deep within him. Everything, including shoes and socks, has been taken from him. Blood is drying over his lips and down his chin-

He flinches again when he feels a thumb and finger press and pull at his nipple. The three men are laughing as Sam slowly lets his predicament sink in, He feels the familiar press of hard flesh against his bare cheek as he lets out another staggered breath. 

“Thirsty?” Christian asks, and good. Sam knows he’s right there, the smell of alcohol on his breath. Jessie moans a little in response as he pushes his hardened cock against Sam again. And again. 

Sam gasps in surprise when Christian spills the alcoholic drink down his back and Jessie is all too eager to lick the sticky substance off of him. Sam grinds his teeth together, he kicks his right foot up and manages to pull his ankle through the rope and Sam almost gives his position away when his head jerks down in a vain attempt to see his almost free foot. 

“Fucking delicious,” Jessie growls possessively. 

_'Fucking amatures.'_ Sam snaps in his mind as he holds himself up on one foot.

“C-Call Dean again…” Sam says with a weak tone, his head jerking up to look somewhat in Jeremy's direction again. "Call him. Again."

"Alright, Alright, boys. Make sure we adhere to those requests." 

Sam feels the pair moving away, the sound of their boots scuffing along the flooring and heading towards the exit. He swallows thickly as he hears the doors opening behind him and their combined laughter becomes more faint.

"So Sam, How about we try Dean one last time before we get the party started, huh?" He's pouring himself another glass of beer and is a little out of Sam's reach. The pieces are finally starting to feel like they're locking into place. He feels focussed and he knows exactly what his cue is as he tightens his fist into the ropes and prepares to yank them hard enough to free his left hand.

The sound of the phone ringing fills Sam's ears, but he pushes his hearing through it, listening for small puffs of breathes and the small signs that Jeremy is within arm's reach. The dial tone clicks over and Sam's heart skips.

"Sammy?"

"Dean!" His breaths are coming out loud and panicked. "Where are you?"

"I'm- ahh… Not entirely sure, i've been hunting out some farmyards… Anyway, How are things on your end, did you see Ms. Green?"

Sam's head twitches as he narrows down on the codewords, _Farmyards._ Dean's being held up somewhere. _Ms._ Equals dangerous, but not fatal. Good ole Dean and his fear of commitment. _Green._ Small group.

"Yeah- Uhh.. I never saw her. I’ve been caught up…"

"Oomph! Ack- Hey! Get off me!"

"Dean!?.. Dean!"

“Sam-”

_/Click/_

Silence fills the bar.

"As you can see Sam. I-... I've got a few tricks up my sleeve" Jeremy babbles and Sam can tell he’s just that little bit out of arm's reach.

"You haven't got anything." Sam baits and Jeremy takes the bait biting down hard.

"I’ve got you- I’ve got your brother- Daddy ain't gonna save you this time, kid. I'm gonna get the damn cup _**and**_ my revenge on the old man!" He snaps.

"You won't." Sam says suddenly sure of himself, his jaw stern and clenched.

"And why not?"

Sam scoffs at him, rolls his neck as his foot jerks through the ropes, he’s confident that Jeremy can’t see his foot over the bar and he’s sure that noone else has eyes on him. That’s one limb free.

"Because…" Sam whispers in hopes to pull Jeremy in just that tiny bit closer. After a moments silence Jeremy leans over the bar so his breath hits Sam’s face as he spits his words at him, curiousity getting the better of the old hunter.

"Because why-"

Sam snaps his hand forward, the weak spot in the rope giving way and Sam pulls his left hand free in record time. Jeremy has barely had time to turn his head or catch the limb as Sam blindly brings his hand up and slaps the top of Jeremy’s head, gripping the blonde strands and forcing the older mans nose into the bar with a horrific crack. Sam hopes it’s broken.

“Mother Fucker!”

Jeremy falls back holding his face with both hands, the sound of a glass shelf falling and shattering on the other side of the bar fills the silence. Sam knows he needs to move quickly. He grabs the blindfold and tosses the rag onto the bar top before he simultaneously yanks and lunges to free his other hand. Once both hands are free and he quickly squats down to untie his other foot, he feels exposed in this position as he tells his his hands to work quickly to pull the ropes. Sam can see the scrap fabric pieces along the floor, the ones he once called clothes and he doesn't exactly have a back up plan other than: It's dark and maybe no one will see him. Plan A is basically: Beat the living shit out of Jeremy, get to the bar door and make a run for it before the other two get back.

He stands up and prepares to brawl, naked. That is plan A. That is his only ticket out of here and Sam thinks to himself how grateful he is that dad taught him this as well, regardless of the embarrassment it caused him at a young age. He’d shudder at the memory if he had time to dwell on it for longer than half a second.

He stands and no brawl would ever come. He looks over the bar where Jeremy has indeed knocked a shelf of alcohol off it’s stand, broken glass is over the top of the staff side of the bar and Jeremy is holding his face with one hand, pinching his nose to contain the bleeding and a gun is pointing straight out in front of him with the other. The barrel looks right at Sam’s chest and Sam knows far better than to risk moving. "Go on. Give me a reason."


	2. Chapter Two

"Hands." Jeremy demands calmly, his voice flat with a hint of a snarl vibrating through it. 

Sam knows better than to hesitate. With a sassy tilt of his head and an angry huff of air he slowly raises his hands to chest height, fingers stretched out. 

"Come back to the bar, Sam, let's chat." 

Sam’s nose twitches with annoyance at the sight of the gun. He takes a step back from Jeremy as he turns to face the bar, his entire body out and on display. 

"Your dad was just as stupid-"

"Where’s my brother?" Sam asks, fixing on the older hunter with a predatory gaze.

"When he tells me where daddy stashed the cup, I'll let ya both go, how about that?" He says playfully with a wink and Sam wishes he could bash that smirk into the bar a second time. Jeremy cocks the trigger and motions for Sam to come closer with a long finger, "Now come 'ere, I wanna show you how my face feels."

"I already know how it feels, Jackass." Sam chances a second step back, hoping to put a little more distance between him and the loaded weapon.

"You know, for someone who's got a gun pointed at them and no way out of here, you're pretty fucking confident, aren’t ya?" 

Sam inhales the words like broken glass. _He isn’t wrong_. 

"On your knees, hands to your head." His tone is vicious, with no room for defiance. Sam takes a few deep breaths as he tries to find a way out of the bar. “I said on. Your. Knees!” 

Sam shakes his head, not in defiance, but in disbelief and gets down on his knees with a scowl.

“You take orders pretty good, Winchester.” 

Jeremy walks around the bar, holding the gun and a pair of handcuffs in one hand. His other hand pinches the bridge of his nose and wipes at the blood drying over his lip. He roughly takes Sam’s right hand and latches the handcuffs on, growling a warning for Sam not to try anything. Sam hisses as the metal pinches his wrists. Jeremy turns to grab the nearest chair, then uses it to sit in front of the kneeling Winchester. 

Sam’s breath had become erratic and he counts to five slowly, to calm himself. The way his father had trained him to.

“I much preferred you over the bar, but I guess we’ll make due,” Jeremy says.

The cold metal of the gun trails down the side of Sam’s neck. 

“I got a couple of questions for ya, Sammy,” Jeremy says, "And I'm gonna need you to answer in full sentences for me, with what I wanna hear." 

“Only Dean calls me Sammy.” He snaps.

Jeremy scoffs while he fiddles with something in his pocket and a few small _clicks_ give away that it’s some sort of recording device. Sam growls disapprovingly.

“Sammy, tell me… Do you have a rape fetish?” Jeremy uses the same tone that one might use to discuss the weather, and it sends Sam’s blood cold. His head snaps up to stare spitefully at the older hunter, waiting for him to repeat himself, hoping that he misheard him.

“...‘Scuse me?”

“You heard me, do you have a rape fetish?” 

“You’ve gotta be outta your God-damn-mind-” Sam snaps.

“Answer the question.”

“No.” Sam’s jaw grinds together defiantly.

Jeremy swiftly raises a hand and Sam flinches, turning his head and shutting his eyes. Sam prepares himself for the stinging pain. Short seconds pass and no such pain follows.

When he opens his eyes the sight greeting him doesn’t fill him with any sort of relief.

Jeremy is sitting beside him, right hand vanishing into the band of his dirt covered jeans. The need to vomit quickly rises in Sam’s throat and it rises more as Jeremy pulls his thick, hard shaft out into the open air.

“Wai- What the hell are you doing-” Sam tries to shuffle backwards, but the threat of the gun is still very much in play as Jeremy pokes the barrel into Sam’s shoulder. Jeremy’s right hand lazily strokes the cock beside him, slowly and methodically.

“Make you a deal. Familiar with deals, aren’t ya?” Jeremy doesn’t seem at all embarrassed and in truth he has no reason to be, his cock is a little above average in length with an unusual but relaxing curve.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You start doin’ as you’re told, like a good little soldier,” Jeremy uncocks the gun and quickly flips the safety as he leans to the side and pockets the 9mm. “And I won’t shove this cock in your fucking mouth.”

Sam feels an icy chill caress his spine and he restrains the shudder that is trying to rip through him. The temperature has dropped and Sam can hear a storm brewing outside. 

“And if you think you can stop it, Sammy, You’re wrong.” The words are like ice water to his face, “I got a cute gag in the car out there and, boy, would it look gorgeous holdin’ your lips nice and open for me…” 

“...Stop it…” Sam says weakly, swallowing a lump.

Jeremy places a warm hand on the crown of Sam’s head and the pads of his fingers softly brush through the strands as Jeremy’s other hand slowly works up and down his hard length.

“So I’m only gonna ask one more time,” Jeremy picks up the recorder and rewinds the tape back. He clicks the record button and leans in closer to the young Winchester.

“Do you have a rape fetish, Sammy?” 

A sick smile tugs on Jeremy’s lips.

Sam’s mind reels around in circles, making him dizzy, he looks up at Jeremy and his mind repeats that he needs to stall for as long as possible. That’s what dad taught him and his brother. 

_’Sometimes you need to strike hot and hard, like a frog flicking its tongue up to grip the fly. And sometimes you need to move slowly, waiting patiently for the best time to move. Like the venus flytrap.’_

Sam realises that today is the day he needs to act like the Venus Flytrap. He swallows his pride as the question rings in his ears again and he hides the whimpers that want to sound louder than they are. He takes another look at Jeremy’s lazy arm, slowly stroking up and down.

“Y-Yes…” 

***Click***

Jeremy rewinds the tape and plays it back. “Naw, I think we can do better than that- Don’t you?” Sam’s hands unclench as he exhales. “C’mon, Try again…”

***Click***

“Do you have a rape fetish, Sammy?”

“...Yes- Yes, I do…” Sam swallows dryly not bothering to hesitate. He knows he is just trying to avoid the taste of blood on his tongue. That’s the goal right now.

“And what about rape turns you on?” Jeremy sounds genuinely inquisitive and Sam almost forgets that he’s being recorded, his mind has slipped into someplace dark, somewhere he can switch off, just a little tiny bit and just follow directions blindly, where he can wait patiently for his moment to strike.

“The- Uhh- Loss of- Control…” His eyes shift quickly, darting back and forth, his mind is pretty sure that it knows where this line of questioning is headed. But- No- It can’t be.

“Like pretending you don’t like it- Huh?” 

“Y-Yes, It’s Uhh- It’s- exhilarating...” Sam knits his brows and wonders if he’s answering too many of the creeps questions

“Sam, Do you consent to being here today?” The young hunter sits quietly breathing deeply as the words echo around him. His heart hammers painfully in his chest. He can't believe what he's hearing. He can’t answer that question. He can’t.

"Sam?" Jeremy pushes.

"G-Go to Hell,” Sam spits with disgust, his forehead is lightly covered with sweat, “You know damn well that I don't!" He jerks out of Jeremys hold. Jeremy pauses the tape and rewinds it, Sam listens to his own submissive voice repeat ‘It’s… Exhilarating…’ Before Jeremy stops the tape. 

“What are you planning? You gonna shoot me? Just do it!” Sam snaps.

"No, Sam, I'm not gonna shoot ya." Jeremy says sounding genuinely sad. He gets to his feet, casually walks to the bar and picks up the makeshift blindfold, which Sam sees now is made from his kitchen rag. Jeremy makes his way to the pool table, picks up a pool cue and calmly makes his way back to his chair. Sam shifts uncomfortably at the sight of the pool cue. "Now, let's try again…" Sam hears a series of clicking again. "Do you consent to being here?"

"N-No…Gonna hit me? Just do it." He responds quicker and angrier. But, his voice quivers and Sam hates to sound weak, especially when he needs to be at his strongest. Now Jeremy knows he must be getting to him and he is quick to grab the back of Sam's neck, fingers pushing far too painfully and Sam knows for sure that he's going to leave bruises. 

"This will go much easier for you if you just-"

"Fuck you.." Sam shouts successfully masking his fear. "I'm not gonna let you get aw-" The sound of the bar doors opening up behind him cuts him off and he can hear Jessie and Christian returning. The pair are laughing loudly, Sam tries to turn his head to see them but earns himself a quick slap across the face from Jeremy to turn himself around. But if Jeremy didn’t want Sam to see what was happening behind him, he should have taken out the large mirror behind the bar. The mirror gives off a perfect view of the bars main exit and Sam can see perfectly as Christian walks inside.

"Hey! What happened in here?" Christian calls from across the bar floor. Sam furrows his brows as he sees dark blue jeans kicking out behind Christian in the bar mirror. Muffled growls and faint cursing that sound all too familiar. When Christian finally moves to the side, Sam can see layers of shirts, a familiar leather jacket and several necklaces twisting and turning, trying to yank their way to freedom. 

Sam would recognise the person reflected in the mirror anywhere, Dean’s arms are restrained behind him and he’s wearing a black sack over his head.

"Dean?" Sam shouts impulsively with wide eyes, catching Jeremy’s attention. Dean is standing between the two men with each of them holding him. Dean stops twisting at the sound of his brothers voice, a small muffled ‘Sammy?’ can barely be made out when his potential gaze finds Sam. His legs are cuffed together with barely enough chain to allow him to walk comfortably.

"Where d'ya think you're going?”Jeremy's hand gets heavier, forcing his fingers into Sam's shoulder as the young man tries to shuffle towards the exit. “You haven't answered my questions yet." Sam’s a little thankful that Dean can’t see him, kneeling in such a submissive and pliant position with his arms bound behind him, the cuffs nipping his skin. 

It definitely wouldn’t be the first time the pair had seen each other in all their glory, compliments of their fathers A+ parenting.

"The answer is no!" Sam snarls. Feeling suddenly stronger with Dean so close, “And that won't change- You know that!”

"That's very noble of you, it is…" He nods at his accomplices "But, I haven't got all night. See Dean knows where the cup is. And he isn't quite willing to hand it over," Dean is being forced to stand still by one of the pool tables and he tries to project his thoughts to his baby brother. 

The Winchester brothers are many things, but they are not psychic.

"Sammy, look at your brother and think very carefully," Jeremy uses the pool cue to turn Sam's head to stare in Dean's direction. "Do you consent to being here?" 

"...No…" His knees are starting to rub painfully against the wooden floorboards, shifting his weight from knee to knee no longer doing the trick.

Jeremy stops the recording with a sigh. “I’m afraid I’m not very patient, Samuel." Jeremy sighs. With two fingers pointing towards his own eyes and then to Dean, he gestures for Sam to keep his eyes on his brother.

Jessie, who had been sitting on the pool table while Christian held Dean by the shoulders gets off with one of the cues, tapping the thinnest part of it lightly against the palm of his hand. 

“Dean!” Sam shouts as Jessie raises the cue, it makes a violent _swish_ as it cuts through the air above his shoulder. Dean's face follows the sound as Jessie holds the cue up like a baseball bat and before Sam has a chance to relay some type of warning to his brother the thin part of the cue collides against Dean’s clothed stomach.

The older Winchester quickly buckles with the blow, bending in on himself as the pain radiates through him. Then the cue lands a second time, knocking the wind out of him. Dean makes a sound of distress. By the third relentless strike Dean pieces together that the weapon of choice must be a pool cue. Christian grabs Dean’s shoulder and steadies him, pulling him back and leaving his torso more exposed. Giving Dean roughly two seconds to breathe. 

It doesn’t stay exposed for too long as Jessie starts to swing harder and harder, Sam cringes with each blow as he listens to Dean shout out in pain, his mind flashes with wonder about what kind of welts will be left behind.

“Stop…” Sam whimpers biting on the inside of his cheek as the cue cuts through the air on the fifth strike and Dean buckles down to his knee with a loud muffled yelp. Sam watches with fury and disgust as Christian raises Dean to his feet again snapping at him to get up. “S-Stop it” He says a little more audible but either he still isn’t loud enough or Jeremy is ignoring him because the man doesn’t even shift.

On the seventh strike the cue snaps into two large fragments with thousands of splintered pieces at the end and Jessie cheers loudly as he tosses the broken wooden sticks to the side. 

"Get up!" Jessie snarls shoving Dean’s shoulder to force him upright.

"So Sam, Do you consent to being here?" Jeremy waits a second, playing with the pool cue in his hand and letting Sam take in the sight of his brother. "Or I can pass this here cue to the boys and they'll keep going."

Dean makes some sort of gurgle sound and Sam isn't sure if he can take a second beating like that. Dean can take one hell of a beating on any regular day. Dad had given Dean finer beatings that one pool cue. So Sam needs to trust that Dean will hold out until he can formulate a plan, just a little bit. Sam Knows he can take it. Trusts that he can. His thoughts are starting to circle wildly in his head, spinning out of control, he can’t seriously be summing up whether Dean can continue to take another beating, can he?

"Need an answer Sammy…" Jeremy teases. Sam slowly shakes his head.

"No."

"Think about it this way, kid, You walked into the bar of your own free will yeah?"

"I don't consent to this! Let us go!" 

"Let you go? What are you? Eight? You know damn well that’s not gonna happen!" Jeremy doesn't shift his head, he stares down at Sam and tosses the cue blindly behind him. Sam could near break his teeth as the cue clacks against the floorboards and rolls to a stop at Jessie’s feet. 

"Think about it." Jeremy warns

Sam does. He thinks hard. His first thought is how Dean will forgive him. How Dean doesn't intend to give up whatever this cup is to them. He thinks that there must be a reason for that.

Jeremy is waving the small recording device in front of his face gesturing a ‘Times up’

"Do you consent to being here?"

"...No, I don't. And don't call me Sammy, Asshole” Sam swallows dryly, knowing Dean will hold out. He has to.

Jessie and Christian laugh in the background when Dean pointlessly yanks in Christian’s grasp.

“Hold him steady now,” Jessie’s grin grows wider. “Ready for round two, Deano?”

Sam turns his head to watch, accepting the visual as his punishment for forcing Dean through this, but Jeremy grabs a handful of his hair and forces his head still, Sam can still see Dean out of the corner of his eye but he glances up at Jeremy. 

“You watch when I want you too.” Jeremy whispers, a light spray of saliva coats Sam’s face as he speaks.

"Hey," Jessie calls out loud for everyone to hear, "I think baby brother is gonna want to watch this.”

Sam doesn’t like the sound of that. Not even a little. Jeremy’s hand lifts out of his hair and Sam tries to swallow again, but there isn’t anything in his dry mouth for him to swallow. He slowly turns his head to see Jessie tapping the cue against Dean’s abdomen, his brother noticeably flinches each time the cue touches him. When Jessie sees Sam’s head turned in his direction he lets the cue slides south.

Sam can feel his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into fists at the site and he can tell Dean is holding onto whatever he can to keep strong. The cue rubs against Dean’s pelvic region and Dean isn’t struggling as much as he probably should be.

“What do you say, Sammy?” Jessie calls playfully from near the exit.

 _’They- No- He- won’t…’_ But, Sam knows that’s a lie _‘He… Can’t…’_ He grits his teeth and let’s a deep breath escape him, he didn’t realise how easy it was to forget something as simple as breathing. Dean’s head is bowed and he slowly shakes it, Sam knows Dean’s telling him not to cave, not to give in. But Sam isn’t exactly sure if that’s something he can watch.

***Click***

“Do you consent to being here Sammy?”

Sam’s mouth opens but no noise comes out while he considers the words and his brothers situation very carefully. Because once he says yes, then that’s it, he’s agreed to being there and they’ll use it against him, he knows it. They’ll use it against him and Dean.

"No." Sam whispers with a heavy heart. “Don’t do this.” He hangs his head knowing the request is helpless.

With the stuttered word Jessie lifts the cue from Dean’s crotch and Sam swears he hears his brother whimper. Jessie rests the cue over his shoulder and watches Dean shake as he prepares for the blow. 

“No. No- Wait!” Sam yells, but Jessie doesn’t seem to look deterred in the slightest.

“This ones for Sarah, you asshole..” Jessie says with a dark and quiet tone. “You think you can treat people like that? Cause a girl that sort of pain and just skip town with no repercussions?”

“Don’t!” Sam shouts in vain.

The smallest of the three hunters swings the cue down low and the thin end lands across Dean’s pelvic region, the sound of the cue striking and Dean’s muffled scream echoes through the bar, his knees give out as soon as the cue touches him and he sinks with one knee barely touching the wooden floor. Christian pulls him up and holds him on his feet, which proves to be a difficult task for the taller hunter.

“Stand up!” Christian snaps as he pulls Dean’s shoulders back.

“C’mon, the cue hasn’t snapped yet, bitch!” Jessie says kicking one of Dean’s legs out, "You got a hell of a beating to come."

Jessie swings the cue back and doesn’t hesitate to swing it forward at full force, the cue collides with the crease of Dean’s jeans and Sam watches his brother buckle a second time. The sound of Dean screaming fills the bar and breaks his heart.

“Two!” Jessie cheers as Christian struggles to force Dean’s body back up.

“Stop it!!” Sam yells, “Okay! I consent!”

“A’right! Hang on boys, I think Sammy wants to answer some questions…Hmm?”

The sound of the recorder being switched back on makes Sam want to vomit, but he holds it down. Pain and fury pulsing through his system.

“Sammy, do you consent to being here tonight?” His voice doesn't even sound like he's been torturing the young Winchester for the past hour.

“Yes- Yes! Okay! Just, leave him alone.”

“We’re gonna try that one again so it doesn’t sound so forced, Okay?” 

“You’re fucking sick!” Sam hisses but every person in the bar knows he’ll comply.

***Click***

“Do you consent to being here tonight, Sammy?” 

“Yes, I consent.” Sam holds back the urge to growl or snap.

Jeremy's lip twitches and his smirk grows at the young man's compliance. He reaches out and lightly puts three of his fingers under Sam's chin, lifting his head slightly.

"And you consent for my guests and I to rape you tonight?"

Sam's face starts to contort and he quickly stuffs his pride aside, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath gives the one-word agreement and nods his head.

"Yes"

Dean, though feeling sluggish, has found some stored strength and is pulling in Christians grasp, he's shouting and making a fair amount of noise. Christian kicks the back of his knee and forces Dean down hissing at him to pipe down.

"And how. How would you like us to rape you, Sammy?" Jeremy pauses the tape quickly and leans down over Sam with a wink, "Any way we like, will suffice."

Sam’s mouth cracks open and no noise follows as he comprehends the hunters words. His mind tumbles over itself. The venus flytrap pathway is looking a lot less appealing now that Sam’s brain is piecing the pieces together. _‘I can’t…’_

“Say it. Or big bro cops it.”

Sam responds with a couple of nods of the head, but still doesn’t reply. He hears Jeremy rewind the tape and press play. “-To rape you, Sammy?” He’s quick to stop the tape and let’s the realisation come over the younger Winchester moments later he nudges Sam with the pads of four fingers in a light slap before hitting play.

“How- ever you see. Fit…” 

“And you don’t mind big brother watching over there in the corner?”

 _’Damnit’_ Sam should have known that was coming, his head swiftly locks over his shoulder to stare at Dean who is still struggling to stand. His head whips up in Jeremy’s direction and he starts to protest. Sam is shaking his head from side to side, but he feels backed into a corner, he hasn’t got a choice. He knows it. Dean knows it. And the three old hunters know it too.

“I- I don’t mind,” His throat constricts as he holds the vomit down. What the hell did he just agree to?

Dean is calling out to him. Sam’s mind is screaming at him. How could he allow this to happen? The next question is a bit of a blur and it doesn’t really reach the young Winchester’s ears. Fingers tapping on Sam’s face brings him back, he hadn’t even realised that he’d zoned out.

“Shut him up!” Jeremy shouts and moments later the room goes deftly quiet. 

“C’mon kid, this is your chance. Try again.”

***Click***

“Beautiful, have you got any hard limits, Sammy?"

“Hard limits?” Sam’s eyes shift around frantically. “Erm- I- I have a few.” He whispers.

“Well, Let’s hear ‘em.” 

Sam is a little surprise that he hasn’t stopped recording and starts listing his limits:

“Any thing that’ll leave a mark. Uhh- Foreign- or Object- Or Anal penetration of any kind! Scat or any bodily fluids. Dean- I don’t want him involved. At all. And I don’t want to be blindfolded.”

***Click***

Jeremy stops the recorder and Sam faintly hears Jessie and Christian laughing in the background. Sam knits his eyebrows in confusion when Jeremy hits the rewind button. For a second his mind tells him, maybe he just wants to listen to Sam’s answers.

“Yeah. We’re gonna try that one again and this time you’re just gonna say _none.”_

“What- Wait-. No. I’m not- I’m not saying that”

“Yes. You are.”

“No. I won’t.” Sam says stern.

Jeremy scoffs at Sam’s little stand of defiance and gives a small shake of his head before pulling out a second voice recorder. The device looks small in his hand and he holds it out to Sam’s face and hits play.

Jeremy’s talking, repeating himself, asking the same question that he’d asked Sam at the start: **“Do you have a rape fetish?”** The voice is a little blurry with white noise filling the background but Sam can hear it just fine. Crystal clear.

 **“Yes. I do. I love it”** The response is gravelly and low and unmistakably Dean’s voice.

The same questions are repeated and Dean answers each question, just as Jeremy would have wanted.

 **”Do you have any hard limits, Dean-o?”** A small pause and Dean responds quietly, with a hateful and tired tone that Sam easily clues in on. **”None, free game, do whatever you want.”** Sam chokes back a sob at the sound of Dean’s voice.

***Click***

The soft sounds of Jessie and Christian laughing are the only things in the room and the brothers sit in silence, realising that their options are becoming more and more limited.

“So Sam, Let’s talk about those hard limits.” Jeremy scoffs and holds out the first recorder, “Say it.” He says dead-pan before he hits the record button.

“Blindfold Dean. Keep him blindfolded- Please.” 

“That’s not on the table. Say what I told you too or Jessie is gonna tan his hide next.”

The God-Awful sound of the recorder’s button getting pushed down sounds and Sam grinds his teeth.

“None. I don’t- have any limits” His eyes feel red and raw. Sam’s stomach is doing cartwheels and the room feels like it might be sailing a little.

***Click***

“There we go… That wasn’t so bad now was it?”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get this party started!

Sam is against the bar once more, naked as the day he was born, arms pulled out tight and he is inexpertly tied to the taps of the bar, Jeremy has shown little kindness considering the fight and argument that Sam gave to him as he and Jessie dragged him from point A to point B. Even bound without the aid of his arms the youngest Winchester fought better than most men. His legs are spread and tied much the same. A light coat of sweat covers Sam’s body and a red hand print has started to form across his ass.

“There’s no way you’re getting away with this!” He spits as Jessie forces some fabric past his teeth and the kitchen rag from earlier is also realigned over his face before the three men join together to move the older Winchester.

Dean, surprisingly, put up less of a fuss. He allows them to maneuver him onto his knees in front of the closest pool table and while Jeremy holds onto the older brothers neck Christian leans down to lift Dean’s shirt. The three men curious to see how visible the welts had become.

Christian whistles.

“Impressive.You did a good job on him.” Jeremy remarks. “Alright, I’m gonna set up some drinks.”

They restrain him to the pool table with his arms still bound behind him, ropes loop around his elbows and stretched out to the table legs. Holding Dean at the front of the pool table. Christian sits on a chair next to him to put a stop to any attempts of heroism.

It’s a heavy night, the rain is hammering against the exterior of the bar accompanied by the howling wind and Sam swears it almost sounds like a roaring audience. The neon lights outside are switched off and the time is nearing midnight. A couple of cars have pulled up outside, light flooding and reflecting off the large display mirror and glass bottles that are set up behind the cash register but neither Winchester can appreciate the aurora of light and colour that fills up the walls around them.

“Ah,” Jeremy says and the three men join in laughter again. “You two stay here and keep an eye on ‘em. We know daddy raised a couple of Houdini’s. I’ll greet our guests.”

“Mmphf!” Sam bucks against the bar.

The sound of heavy doors opening and closing fills the bar and then the room goes deadly quiet. Sam’s heart hammers in his chest and he hazily tells himself that he needs to calm down. He listens for signs from outside, but it’s hard to hear much over the heavy drops that slam against the windows.

He hears some car door slamming shut and Sam can hear some faint voices. His head circles on the words Jeremy had used: _’Greet our guests’, ‘...My guests and I …’_

“You thirsty lil’ Winchester?” Jessie asks playfully. He starts pouring drinks and laying the glasses across the bar. Sam ignores the question, even if he could reply Jessie wouldn’t be able to understand him through the gag. 

The doors open again, rain spilling across the bar floor and Jeremy walks back inside with company. Sam listens to the footsteps tapping against the wood flooring. At least three other people have walked inside with Jeremy as he continues to feed the small group misleading information. His heart stops. 

"Dnnn!?" Sam calls for his brother, turning his head to the side as he leans on one leg. He puts his weight into one restrained arm and wills the thin ropes to give way. 

“Mmphh!”

“Now, I have recordings from both of ‘em, if you’d like to listen? That one knows the arranged safeword that we talked about earlier and eventually we’ll take his gag off so he can use it. Whenever he wants," Jeremy pauses and a shiver silently crawls down his spine. There is no safeword and all he can do is sit and listen to Jeremy as he continues his little drabble with any interruption. "...Shots and drinks on the bar and both boys are already in character- Ah!- You made it! Did you bring the thing I requested?”

“Right here. I always carry spares.” Sam hears the sound of metallic buckles being clicked and shifted. He doesn’t recognise the sound of the man’s voice, he isn’t any hunter that Sam has had the misfortune of meeting.

He hears some shuffling of feet behind him, two or three pairs and a collection of voices laughing and snickering at his naked form, they mix together and Sam feels his head swimming with repulsion. They think he’s here of his own free will. They’ve all heard the recording device with Dean and himself giving Jeremy permission to do this. He shakes his head. 

“Nnngh!”

“So what first?” Another voice asks.

“Grab a drink, pull down your zipper and make yourself comfy.” Jeremy says in between the sound of a scoff. “We’ll get this party started very soon.”

Sam hears several people shuffling, some coming towards the bar to collect drinks, others have pulled up chairs to sit and watch. _'There's at least five other people in the bar now.'_ What he doesn't hear is his brother making much fuss and the thought chills him.

Sam whips his head to the side when he feels a hand caressing his lower back with a whistle. 

“Got some smooth skin, don’cha? You sure he’s a hunter?”

“That’s the younger boy ain’t it-?”

"Yeah- Sammy Winchester!" Another exclaims loudly, his voice booming through the bar.

“Bet daddy’s real proud of you boys…”

Sam’s heart plummets as the group of hunters chat among themselves, he tries to recognise voices, count, to get an idea of how many have been invited to the bar but his thoughts are forced back when he feels another hand on his shoulder.

“Does he need to be gagged? I want to hear the pretty sounds this boys gonna make.” a voice asks right by Sam's ear. Sam practically hears him gulping down the beer.

"phhkk ooo!" His heart feels tight, like it's beating feverishly from within the grips of a clenched hand.

“Alright, The gag can come off and it’s probably time for Dean to at least start watching the party-” Jeremy says flatly before turning to glare down at the older brother, “Dean’s gag can come off after Sammy takes his first load.”

 _'No- He can't- H- He Can't do this!'_ A whimper softly seeps through the fibres of the gag as he tries to comprehend the words ringing out in his head.

"Don't want him ending the party too soon. Oh, and remember they're in character…"

Somewhere in the background Sam can hear the false consent tapes being played again, the sound of his and Dean’s voices giving untruthful consent to the treatment that he has no doubt will come. Dean’s muffled screaming breaks his heart as all the sounds intwine with one another into one large mesh of noise and Sam’s head is struggling to keep up with it all.

“Here. Let’s have a look, this is what we’re all here for.” Another voice says. He bites down hard with a whimper when two hands grab his cheeks, boney fingers digging into the fleshy parts of his ass and separates them exposing his small pink pucker.

"Nngh! Nnngh-Mmmphh!"

"Well isn't that a pretty sight!" One man comments, his voice is gruff and he sounds a lot older than your average hunter.

Another man whistles, "Look at that." Sam hears the sound of metal clanking against metal, he's sure one or more have started removing their belts. 

"Anyone bring lube?"

"Yeah- here."

The voices and sounds start to swirl into one giant mix of noise, like being at a crowded event or shopping complex. Sam tugs lightly and lets the ropes go slack, maybe if he shuffles them, they'll come apart.

Somewhere deep in the distance Sam can hear Dean trying to call out to him and Christian growls down at him, "Pipe down and enjoy the fucking show." 

Sam has counted at least four new voices- Or maybe he's already counted those voices- He can't be sure. He focuses on Dean, the familiarity of his muffled voice grounding him, but not preparing him for a finger to trace a couple of circles around his hole.

"Mmph! Nngh!" Sam tenses his back and tries to lean into the bar to escape the touch. He gets a small tap on the arse and a warning to keep still as another guest leans around Sam's body to help hold his ass cheeks apart and the finger gently returns.

It’s an alien feeling and Sam hates it. The man sucks on his finger and continues to circle the sensitive area and Sam bites back the will to cry. He tries to locate Dean’s voice again, the sound of Dean bucking and thrashing. Anything.

“You like that, don’t ya, little hunter.” 

A yank around his head tells him that someone is finally removing the gag, he spits the fabric taste from his mouth and quickly starts to beg the people around him to untie him. 

“Hey! Don’t do this. Untie me-” A soft laughter fills the room as the onlookers ignore his request.

“Nngh! Stop! This- This… This isn’t consensual! Please sto- Ah! Get your fucking hands off of me!” Sam turns his head to one side then the other in a pathetic attempt to shake the blindfold. “Please listen! Those tapes are fucking fake!” 

“That’s a pretty hole you got there…” They ignore him and Sam feels a blunt pressure pressing against his hole, someone’s finger. A few men are remarking at how much Sam seems to be enjoying himself as he continues to protest.

"Ahh! No… Nnngh-"

"Hold him open for me!" One of the nameless pricks says from behind.

“Really liking that aren’t ya.”

“Dean, look at how well your brother takes that-”

Sam can hear Dean yelling and shouting into his gag.

“Yeah, he fucking loves it!”

More whistling, more laughter and more vulgar speech from the surrounding men, echoing and bouncing off the bar walls, little sharp words that poke and jab him from all directions, but the one he focuses on is the muffled cries in the background. 

"There we go, on that second knuckle already-"

“Stop-Stop-Stop!” Sam yanks on the ropes, the taps wobble a little but prevent him from moving too far, he tries to arch his back to move away from the invasive fingers but they follow his movements. A pair of hands on his cheeks tells him they intend to spread him again, and before the thought even enters his mind his cheeks are being pulled apart and the finger finally pulls away.

“Jesus…!” Sam whispers jolting when he feels something wet press against his vulnerable hole, "Oh- No-No-Nn- Fuck!" a tongue lapping at the space and some of the men cheer their brother on, telling him to get in there. He chokes back a moan and bows his head a little. The man pulls back to spit at Sam’s inexperienced hole and continues to assault him, poking his tongue as far as he can and switching it out for his longest finger. Sam chokes out half a cry as hands on his hips pull him back into the slimey, velvety feeling.

"Ah!" He means to beg for them to stop, but the words get caught.

The familiar feel of vomit creeps up his throat and the too many sounds of hunters chattering and shot glasses being lifted off and slammed back on the bar top has Sam’s mind reeling. He tries to count how many he can hear over and over but he struggles to find an exact number.

 _'C'mon, focus…'_ Sam shifts his head to the left and tries for the hundredth time to count. _'There’s at least two?'_ As he turns his head he counts Jessie who's pouring drinks in front of him and then looks to his right _'Three, You make four. Two by Dean make five.'_.

The guy leaning behind him sinks his teeth into Sam's cheek making Sam gasp. _'S-Six..And Jeremy- makes seven.'_. But he can't be sure. 

Sam can feel his heart growing desperate for escape, he knows that the people he's counted are just the ones he can hear. He doesn't know if more are on the way.

“You’re all fucking sick!” Sam shouts failing to suppress a shudder as he leans his weight into one of the ropes.

The group joins in on a loud chuckle that jumps and scatters off the walls and Sam hears one guy on his right make some remark about him _’really being in character.’_

"This isn't a fucking game, you assholes!" Sam hisses, shaking his head and hoping the blindfold will fall off his face.

“Ho! Someone’s got a mouth on ‘em!” Jessie claims from in front of him, “Someone ought to shut you up.” He says to the crowd with an amused tone. 

“How’s it feel huh?” Sam growls, head facing directly at Jessie, “To know you’re on borrowed time, cause we’ll be coming for you.” Even though he's blindfolded, the threat lands a direct hit.

The surrounding strangers all chime with an amused _’Oooooo’_ at Sam’s words. Sam feels his lips quivering as he shifts his weight to his other leg. Jessie scoffs at him and on the surface he almost looks like Sam's words haven't struck a nerve, he slides a drink down the bar and bends to collect another glass, he swallows back his nerves. Jessie knows he's just going to have to give Sam a good enough reason to not come looking for him. He gets to his feet and as he fills the glass he looks at Sam. He is gasping for air, chest heaving and shaking in place at the feel of the hunter below the bar.

"Not going to let him talk to you like that are you?" A gruff voice asks. _No, he isn't._

Sam gasps with a moan and presses his chin to his chest when the finger bends and bumps his prostate and that is when the first set of tears start to form in the corners of his eyes.

“I better get my money’s worth then,” Jessie laughs and Sam can hear the nervousness in his tone, or he's sure thats nervousness, “Alright, lads. Move aside. I’ll get this party started." 

The man behind Sam must've enjoyed Sam bucking against the bar because he slides his finger out and back into Sam's prostate a second time while Jessie sets down the most recently poured drink.

"Ugh! D-Don't!" Sam growls. He can feel his testicles tightening and he knows that feeling all too well. 

The other members are calling out, whistling as Jessie makes his way around the bar. Sam can only grit his teeth, he jumps when someone smacks his bare ass and for a small second he swears he can hear Dean undoubtedly being forced to watch behind him.

"You do this," Sam grits taking a second to find a slightly louder voice as he gives the ropes a pointless tug, "You'll never get that fucking cup! We'll never help you! You hear me?" Sam flinches as he feels Jessie take his place behind him, "Don't. Untie me! Don't do this."

"Hold 'im for me." Jessie says flatly and the bars volume seems to quiet and slow down. Sam's throat tries to whimper but he slams his mouth shut just in time to hold it in. He feels something thick and fleshy rubbing up and down over his crack, between his spread cheeks and poking gently at his opening. He takes in quick and panicked breaths through his nose, he feels his shoulders and arms shaking and wonders if it's at all noticeable. 

"Feel that? Huh? You know what that is." Jessie whispers over Sam's shoulder before he presses his lips to Sam's shoulder blade. "Don'cha."

"Uh! Don't-"

"Now i normally like to have a rough fuck, slam her straight home til i blow, ya know."

 _'Jesus Christ!...'_ Sam quickly considers what that is going to physically do to him. All the possibilities of tearing and infection. He isn't a stranger when it comes to long healing periods, but he doesn't want these thoughts in his head.

"I mean- I take a while to cum, no apologies there, Sammy. But i'm sure you could handle a solid rough fucking in this cute, tight pussy of yours, yeah?" Jessie coos the words in the taller hunters ears as he wipes his tip of his solid cockhead over Sam's hole again.

Sam's lips stick together from instant dryness when he tries to reply to that warning. But what can he really say to that? So he closes his mouth and grits his teeth.

"But here's what I'm gonna do for ya, Sammy. You ask me real nice- and i mean _real_ fucking nicely and i might just enter you nice and slow. What do you say?" He whispers the words like poisoned honey. Sam feels cornered and being blindfolded doesn't help.

He knows he's shaking from the whispered words, he can feel the towel soaking up the tear that had fallen down his cheek. Sam cracks his lips open to reply but it all gets caught on his tongue because he can't ask for that, but what is he risking if he doesn't?

"S- S- Safeword."

"...'scuse me?" Jessie growls.

"I wanna use my safeword. I want you to stop and I want you to untie me. Now." Sam is sobbing lightly under the blindfold, but none of the visiting hunters seem to notice.

Jessie pulls back for a second and the silence washes over them, Sam realises that there's a chance the other hunters are taking his words seriously. "Let me and my brother go- Just untie us"

"Then use your safeword." Jessie says with a hint of pride. "No-ones stopping you."

"I don't have a safeword."

Jessie breaks out in laughter at the small sounding words.

"Of course you don't. Because this is rape- ain't it?" He hisses the words in Sam's ear as he cups one of Sam's cheeks giving it a solid squeeze. "Hold him open for me."

Sam flinches when Jessie rubs his cock up and down his crack again, as if the last forty seconds hadn't occurred. His heart has formed a knot that Sam wishes he could cough up. He wants to cry, God damnit he wants to buck and plead and scream. He can't hear Dean and Sam panics a little more wondering what they might be doing to him. 

"Now that we got that out of the way, Sam you got something you gonna ask for? Or am I just gonna split you open and leave nothing for no one else?"

"No…" Sam squirms trying to bring his knees in but apparently there's someone sitting between his legs and holding him open for Jessie to take. He lets out a staggered breath and Jessies cockhead catches on his hole as the smaller man starts to push against him.

"No!- Wait!"

"I'm not waiting…"

"Wait! Wai- Okay…" He knows he's out of time, out of options and out of hope.

"Mmmm?" Jessie smirks behind him. "Gonna do this the fast or slow way, hmm? Your choice."

Somewhere inside of Sam is the thirteen year old boy that was too young to hunt and often left behind to fend for himself when dad started teaching Dean how to hunt, the boy that packed his things into a backpack one lonely night. Somewhere deep down is the kid that ran away. That same kid wants to run away now. But he is twenty-four now and he can't for the life of him break free from the bondage. And even if he could, that damn recorder tells all the surrounding men and women in here that he's looking for a fight. 

"Well?" Jessie pushes forward and Sam practically whimpers at the feel of the mans hard flesh poking him. "Go on. Ask me to fuck you nicely…" He leans forward on a wobbly foot and presses his lips to Sam's right shoulder blade, then lets his tongue slide up and over the bumps of Sam's spine.

Sam hates how his cock seems to tighten and twitch as Jessie softly kisses him. He takes in large breaths of air, in and out through his nose. But Jessie is about as patient as the old man had been. He pulls his hips out and softly lines his dick to Sam's clenching hole again.

Sam starts nodding his head, feeling helpless as a rock forms in the pit of his stomach. 

"Please…" Sam's throat tightens and he tries to relax his trembling body as he says the words, "Fuck me s-slowly…" He turns his head away from the majority of onlookers, his face blushes and he wants to vomit when he hears two of them laughing.

Sam feels his dick twitching in all it's glory against his naval and apparently the guy sitting between his legs appreciates the view as he nuzzles into Sam's crotch. Not touching it, or threatening to wet it with his tongue just yet, he's just got his face buried in Sam's stretched lap as he breathes. Sam can feel the man's nose pressing into his pelvic region, carding and nuzzling over his public hairs, he pulls away with a tiny whimper, but Jessie's dick doesn't let him pull back too far and the fingers quickly dig into the flesh of his ass and pull him back into the touch.

"I just want you to say that once more for me, Sammy. Then we'll give these nice people what they came for."

Sam scolds himself for wriggling, for putting on any sort of show, even if he is just shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He gasps when the guy between his legs suddenly does lick him, but not on his privates, no. He just brushes his tongue through Sam's pubic hairs and around the base a little. 

His mind lights up at the prospect of a blow job and his cock tightens. But Sam hates it, he tries to pull away from the touch, ignoring Jessie for a small moment, but the hands grip tighter and force Sam's hips to stay where they are.

"Ya like that don't ya." A deep voice on his right asks. The man nuzzles a little lower and Sam can feel the tongue softly and slowly moving from one testicle to the other. His eyes widen behind the blindfold. _'Why won't he- No.'_ Sam corrects the thought. He needs to tell this guy to fuck off, to get his mouth the fuck away from his dick. 

_'Relax, You need to relax. This is happening and it's gonna hurt. But you know damn-well if you don't relax it's gonna mean twice as long to heal. Now, C'mon…'_

"Please," Sam says as he angrily sticks his arse back and away from the tongue sucking at the bottom of his belly, "I want you to fuck me," He tries to tell his shoulders to unclench, tries to relax, "...nice and slowly…"

"Nngh!" Jessie pushes forward and Sam pulls away from the stretching sensation. His body rejecting the idea of anal penetration.

"Oi! C'mon, You got one job- Hold him still!"

Jessie lines his cock back to Sam's hole and the hands on his cheeks disappear for a whole heartbeat before he feels a hand on either hip.

"Don't, Please don't!" Sam begs.

"Stop your squirming." Jessie whispers but it's the small series of thuds in front of him that Sam is suddenly focussed on.

"In a little bit you'll have a chance to use that…" Sam recognises Jeremy's voice before he turns his head to the sound of whatever is being lifted away. Whatever it is, it sounds heavy. 

_'Be able to use it?'_ Sam's mind flashes with images of sex toys and he discards most of them. _'Not the right sound for nipple clamps, if they wanted to gag me, they'd just force the kitchen rag back in my mouth..'_ He knows it sounded metal. _'Corporeal…'_ He can see a small flogger or paddle and he nods, _'That's gotta be it.'_

Jessie pushes forwards again, snatching Sam's attention and this time Sam can't pull away. The head of Jessie's cock slips straight in, albeit with a little bit of force and Sam tries to push back, having read online that pushing back helps. He gasps loudly and quickly clenches his teeth together, sucking in big lots of air through his teeth as his body accommodates the head of Jessie's dick. Sam's eyes snap open, he sees mostly darkness but there's a blotchy blue light seeping through the blindfold near his right eye. 

"Here we go, Got that first inch in already, Sam…" Jessie goes still and lets Sam's lower body adapt. A kindness he was not expecting. Sam welcomes it, is thankful for it but hates Jessie all the same. He wants his hunting knife, the one that is tucked away in his duffle, he wants to watch the thick silver blade slice through Jesse's throat with a precise slash, Sam thinks about missing the jugular vein and standing over him, watching with a cruel gaze as Jessie bleeds out. After a fifteen second break Jessie rocks his hips back and forth softly and slowly, letting Sam adapt to the intrusion. 

"We're about an inch and a half now, kid…"

"Pull out!" Jessie stops rocking his hips, but keeps himself sheathed inside of Sam. "Please, I can't-"

"You only got two inches," Jessie spit, his voice at least two octaves lower than normal, "You tell me to pull out again, i'm not gonna treat you so fucking kindly." Sam hears the threat loud and clear _'Shut up or i'll pound your fucking ass'_ His hole tightens around the cock and Sam bites his bottom lip before a whimper crawls out.

Jessie starts up a soft rhythm, rocking himself back and forth, letting his dick slide in and around the inside of Sam's ass. 

"You.." Jessie moans as his pauses again, his hand resting on Sam's side for a small amount of time, ".. Are one tight fuck…"

Sam can only whimper, gasp and groan when Jessie starts rocking, He'd forgotten about the guy between his legs, but now, he is licking Sam's thigh, he continues to try and pull away, yanking harder with his right hand, the taps wobble slightly but are at no threat of breaking.

"You are halfway there." Jessie grunts and Sam gasps when he feels Jessie's cock twitching like crazy inside of him, "Been a while since i had one as tight as you…" Jessie has stopped again, pausing each half inch to let Sam's body adapt. Sam tries not to squirm, tries to make it easier on himself. "You're doing so good, Sammy. You know what would make it easier for you though… If you rocked back on me. Be almost like taking it at your own pace… I'll give you a second to think about it…"

Jessie whistles softly, calling someone and Sam can tell that he is motioning for someone to do something. But he wasn't prepared for a tongue to push against the head of his pulsing cock.

"Oh, Fuck!" Sam gasps as his body shudders lightly.

"Oh, Fuck, Sam, You clench like that again and i might end this party fucking early."

Lips have wrapped around the head of his cock and Sam instinctively pulls away from the unwanted attention, by doing so he pushes back into Jessie. He's stuck with nowhere to go, he doesn't even realise his hands are grasping the bar taps for dear life, his chest is now splayed on the bar top, his ass is stuck out and Sam moans open-mouthed into the bar. He arches his back the little he is capable when the mouth takes more than half his cock inside, sucking him down. It's the first time he rocks his ass back and then he rocks his hips forward, letting his cock move into the welcoming, warm, wet mouth.

 _'Ah, Ah! Breathe… Ugh-God- Breathe…'_ Sam begs himself not to move but the sucking is starting to force his hips back and the penetration makes him crave the attention on his cock. He moans again, wishing it sounded more displeased.

"That's it, Sam, You got half in already." 

_'Stop. Stop moving!'_ But his body doesn't co-operate. He rocks between the cock and mouth that are lighting him up, making him feel flustered and as if nothing exists outside of what he is feeling. He can't describe it, the feeling of having something solid penetrating his hole, it hurts. It hurts and as it moves back he feels like he's trying to relieve himself of a heavy lunch. Sam feels the space inside of him expanding and allocating more room as the hardened flesh tunnels through.

"Just a bit more."

Sam swears Jessie must be moving too, the thrusts occasionally being painful, but the wet, warm mouth being too inviting for him to care. He hates that he doesn't care, hates that he has somehow forgotten that Dean is watching somewhere behind him.

"Almost there. Don't clench! Fuck!" Jessie moans against Sam's back. "That's it, That's it!"

Sam can feel Jessie shaking a little behind him, and if he'd know he was telling the guy in front of him to stop sucking, maybe he'd have whined a little more.

"Well, would you look at that, Sammy."

The mouth falls off his cock with a loud pop that snaps through the air and very shortly after Sam becomes aware of a few vulgar comments and light snickers from the other hunters. He gives them about as much attention as they deserve, which isn't much at all, he's far too busy panting into the bar top to care what they have to say.

"Alright," Jessie rubs his hands up and down over the young Winchester's back. Sam doesn't bother twisting away, he isn't convinced that he can. Though, he does clench when he feels Jessie's cock twitching inside of him, bouncing up and down in the small space. "You know what happens now…" Jessie warns.

"That's fucking hot" Air fans across Sam's face for a small second and distracts him, someone is right in front of him, just staring. "That was fucking hot…" The jerk repeats. _'No, not Jerk,'_ Say lazily thinks, _'Jerk is too kind of a word to describe this group of animals.'_

A few hunters have started to clap slowly, one man whistles at Jessie's hard work, Sam can smell sex, alcohol and sweat in the air, but Jessie is right, the show isn't over yet.

Sam is slumped against the bar, fingers twitching. He cracks his lips open in a gasp as Jessie starts to pull away, nice and slow, feeling every inch dragging towards his exit and Sam swears he is going to make a mess, but he can't describe the strange relief he feels as Jessie continues to slowly pull half his cock out.

It's much of the same on the way in, the way his insides move to allocate the room for the intrusion, there isn't enough lube and Sam hates to admit it, but the friction feels somehow good, electrifying. Jessie must be leaning a little to one side because his cock drags too close to the left hand side and Sam swears something is going to tear. It hurts- but Sam can't comprehend it, because it also doesn't hurt. He pushes back into it and he hates himself for welcoming the feeling of being full. Sam gasps in large gulps of breath in between moans and when Jessie suddenly tangles his hand in Sam's hair and rugs his head back, Sam doesn't think too much about it.

His mouth is clamped shut, with lips curled upwards, showing off his teeth as he grits through the strange feeling of Jessie's dick pulling and pushing, back and forth. "Yeah! That's it, little bitch!" One man yells from across the room. Jessie pulls back and give one specifically rough push forwards and Sam's mouth opens wide in a gasped moan.

Another man whistles again, "Give it to him!" The older man howls.

"Pound that little twink asshole!" 

Again, Sam gasps as Jessie pulls back and another rough thrust has Sam's jaw slacking open, if it weren't for Jessie's hand in his hair Sam's head would be lolling forward, forehead pressed to the bar. Again, Jessie pulls back and shifts his body up and when he forces himself inside his cock zips straight past Sam's prostate. 

An electric current softly zips through him and just when Sam is about to buckle and beg for mercy, Jessie's hand tightens in his hair and in the click of a finger, Sam feels metal pushing at the corners of his mouth and the back of his bottom teeth.

 _'What the fucking hell?!'_ He tries to shake his head and loses a couple of strands of hair for his troubles. He doesn't react quick enough and it isn't until metal is tucked under his top teeth and forces his bottom jaw open that it slowly dawns on on what is going on. He tries to clamp his teeth shut, shake his head, anything. But, his reaction time isn't what it used to be. Jessie holds his head still while another hunter fixes the leather straps behind Sam's head. Their plentiful company cheering them on.

"Gnnaa!" Sam shouts, his body trembling as the sun rises on his situation. The gag hold his mouth nice and open as his tongue pushes against the bottom, circular bar that rests behind his teeth. "Ah- Gnnaa! Ngh!" When Jessie let's his head go Sam shakes his head, his tongue pokes through the hole in the gag and the top of his mouth has already started to dry. He knows what this is and he knows what it means.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Make sure the gag is in tight...

The night is moving into the early hours, the rain has calmed down significantly, taping lightly against the windows by the hundred thousands and the wind is barely audible over the sound of hunters loudly cheering, clinking glasses together in celebration to their entertainment. A mix of rain water and alcohol scuffs the wooden floorboards of the bar and Sam doesn't know whether he should feel thankful or not about the bar being closed on Mondays. 

Jessie grips his head roughly while another hunter buckles the leather straps behind Sam's head. The rest of the crowd are drinking and palming themselves through their pants.

"It can go further back. Pull his jaw open." a voice from across the bar cheers.

"Make sure it's tight!" Another voice slurs.

"Gnnaa!" Sam shouts. He shakes his head but the corner of his bottom lip gets caught between the metal gag, pinching, catching him off guard and shocks him still. Someone grabs part of the gag and forces his head still.

"Stop squirming." It isn't said like a threat. The words whisper out like this is all part of some normal conversation. "That's good…" 

The circle that makes up the open-mouth-gag is forced back, metal scraping against Sam's teeth and forcing his jaw to open painfully wide. He tries to close his mouth but it is pointless. Unless he wants to cause himself an injury. Sam turns his head back and forth in a pathetic attempt to gain back some control. But, it is short lived when his bottom lip catches between the steel gag. It tugs his lip unforgivingly and he yelps on instinct at the unfamiliar tug and stretch. He whimpers at how quickly his jaw has started aching.

The young hunter can do nothing but accept his fate as leather is yanked around his head and buckled at the top of his neck. His heartbeat races, his mouth is dry and his throat feels like sandpaper. One final yank and the surrounding cheers lets both Winchesters know that the gag is in to stay.

He wants to scream. It's his immediate response. A look of concern creeps over his features and if it weren't for the damn blindfold maybe one of these hunters might have questioned it. Sam's heart does a painful double beat and he dry retches at the thought of what's to come. Doubts and horrific images clouding his mind as the smell of arousal seems to grow around him.

Jessie finally lets Sam's head drop, the small hunter's fingertips being quick to find his captives hips as he slowly pulls his cock free from the constricting passage. Sam shudders, lowers his shoulders and sticks his hips back a tad to make the process more bearable as Jessie's hard length slips free with a sick squelching sound.

 _'S'not over….'_ Sam thinks to himself wildly. He's slowly losing track of his thoughts with the swirl of panic that now races through him and it doesn't matter how many times he repeats to himself that he needs to stay calm, his brain and heart are working against him to keep the course of panic high and coursing in his veins. The need to scream rising.

"Look at him!" A voice thats almost familiar cheers from the background and it takes Sam a minute to realise that it's Jeremy speaking.

"Nice and open from both ends." Another hunter scoffs.

Sam forces his throat to tighten, to catch the sob that prepared to give away how vulnerable he feels. Not that it isn't obvious. He knows what's coming and dad always taught them to prepare themselves for the worst 

_'Okay-'_ He tells himself, _'...You know damn well what happens from here…'_ Another sob shakes him from inside. _'Dean's watching… And we'll kill 'em all- the second he's- As soon as we're both free…'_ He feels his arms starting to tremble and he realises that Jeremy had been talking. 

"Time to size up." 

Dean is shouting through his gag and Sam recognises the muffled sounds to be his name. Dean is calling for him, repeatedly saying 'Sammy' over and over in an attempt to ask if he's okay. 'Sammy?… Sam?… Sam?…'

 _'It's okay, Dean… S'not your fault...'_ Sam shakes his head a little with the internal reply, he still feels dizzy and tired and completely unprepared. _'Dean is watching…'_ And for some reason that's a comforting thought.

He can hear plenty of scuffling behind him, the damn tapes being played. Again? On top of this the sounds of zippers being pulled down can be heard, but he chooses not to dwell on it as he continues to mentally prepare himself.

A few men cheer, some are laughing and Sam tells himself to stop focusing on the sounds behind him. _'Test the ropes again. There'll be a weak spot. There's always a weak spot.'_ He knows there's not, he's blindly searched over the ropes a thousand times and has come up short each and every time. _'And what? I just fight all of them? Even if I do escape- Dean takes my place….'_ His stomach churns at the thought much like Dean's must be. _'I can't do...nothing-'_ The sob from earlier returns and tries it's luck at shaking Sam again, but he holds strong.

"Alright.." A nervous voice scoffs from the other side of the bar. Loud cheers follow and Sam's head whips to the side to somewhat face the source, inhaling deeply through his nose. He shakes his head when he hears the sound of metal on metal, he knows it’s a belt buckle being pulled, being played with and being undone.

"Nnghh… Nnngh…" His body is cold with a light cover of sweat and he tugs violently at the ropes. Sam lets the panic zip through him, for just a moment. The bar taps wobble, just slightly but not nearly enough for them to give way and set Sam free.

A few soft grunts directly in front of him tells Sam that one of the hunters is climbing on the bar. A leg brushes under his arm and Sam almost knocks himself over as he tries to pull away from the guy getting comfy in front of him. He struggles harder when he pictures what he must look like, when Dean makes some sort of gasped sound.

The smell of new arousal hits Sam’s nostrils like a truck strikes a deer in the middle of the night, the scent shoving the young Winchesters mental state further from stable. Tugging and fighting does nothing more than tire him out. Sam begs, open mouthed for them to stop, to not do this. The sounds of his and Dean’s muffled pleas mixing together in a riot of noise in the bar.

“You take this stuff seriously, huh.” The hunter grunts.

A hand slaps on his shoulder and quickly feels it’s way to the back of Sam’s neck. Thumb digging into the side and Sam whimpers, knowing it will probably bruise there. The hand becomes weighted on his neck and the young Winchester quickly realises where this is heading. He pushes against the weight and refuses to go down without some sort of fight.

“Ngaaa!” Sam pulls, trying to go against the hand.

"C'mon… Don't be shy." an unfamiliar, deep voice rumbles, fingers find one of his nipples and the gruff man gives the nub a small test tug. Sam's head jerks down a little more. The musky scent hits him in the face, strong enough to make the young, inexperienced hunter bring up his last meal.

Some wet and sticky touches the side of his face and Sam isn't willing to act dumb, he knows damn well what it is and the thought of it being that close to his painfully open mouth forces him to buck on impulse. The sob comes out with another sound of protest, successfully croaking and Sam begs them not to. His protests continue to be ignored and the wet nob is being hit against his cheeks before Sam feels sticky wet pre-cum coating his bottom lip.

"Nggaa…!' He tries to close his mouth, to roll his jaw in a way that will dislodge the gag, his mind short circuiting with panic and the bar, filled with hunters is starting to get louder again. Cheering as his head is forced into the lap of an unknown hunter.

"Thats it..." The young voice above Sam moans as the tip of his cock finally slips through the gag ring. Sam heaves continuing to pull against the bonds. They don't give even an inch. Boney fingers roughly dig into the side of his neck and a second hand grips at his hair.

"Why you gotta fight so much, boy."

"Just relax-"

"Enjoy yourself." 

The words mean fuck all. Their voices are indistinguishable and a majority of them all sound the same. Except Dean. Who seems to have gone eerily quiet. Sam gags and spits a mix of drool and vomit. But the man driving his cock in past the gag won't be deterred.

"Breathe through your nose, cause your mouths only good for dick now" A voice scoffs, a hint of humour lacing it and that voice was familiar. Jessie. He's still there. The sound of Jessie's vocals highlight the throbbing Sam can suddenly feel at the base of his spine. Another moment that is short lived when the salty tip rubs itself inside of Sam, forcing him to gag once more.

Another hand caresses his lower back. Fingertips dancing across his lower spine like feathers, whispering across his skin and Sam feels heat slowly radiating, becoming increasingly warmer behind him. _'Some- Ones- There-'_ He tells himself as a hand grips tighter in his hair holding his head down and forcing his shoulders to hunch over.

Sam tries to intake a large breath through his mouth again, he exhales and more vomit accompanies the musky breath of air. His anxious brain tells him this is it, this is how he dies, he can't breathe, can't scream and the cock fills his mouth, softly hitting the back of his throat again and again.

"Listen to those sounds,"

"Fucking beautiful…"

 _'Please-Please-Please-Fuckin-Stop!'_ Sam yanks on the ropes with his wrists, his skin is raw and bright red. He turns his hands around and grips the rope. Begging for it to disappear. The young hunter holds Sam’s head down and relishes in the warmth, but somewhere entwined in the mess of Sam’s mind he knows that it isn’t just one hunter holding him down, somewhere is a memory of a blowjob from not too long ago, he knows this one hunter doesn’t have the energy to hold a relenting body down.

“Yea- That’s it…” His throat tightens again and this time it rips a moan out from in front of Sam, the receiver appreciative of the sudden tightness around his most vulnerable asset.

“Swallow that whole thing!” 

The younger Winchester can’t feel his hands as they twitch along the ropes, his body deprived of oxygen, prepared and willing to conceive, he swings his arms back and forth, trying to push the surrounding hunters off of him, trying to hold onto the ropes, the bar, trying to find a weak spot, to tug the ropes off of his wrists or off the taps. Sam splutters over the salty, hard flesh and begs his consciousness to give up and that’s when the hunters finally let him go simultaneously.

The first thing Sam does is rip his head back and arches his back to get his head as far from the crotch as much as possible. The second thing he does is take a huge breath of fresh air. Well, fresher air. He feels drool falling from his lips and painting across his chest. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if there were evidence of vomit over his torso as well. 

“Oh, I’m not done yet, Sammy boy.” The kid chimes. “I’m just gettin’ warmed up.” 

_’Dean is here...Dean is-’_ Sam turns his head and listens for Dean. He knows deep down that Dean being here is the only thing stopping him from losing himself. It’s the worst comfort that he has. But, it’s the only comfort he has. 

“...’Eee?...” His mouth doesn’t allow for much in the way of tangible sentences or comprehendable words. He could be repeating the word ‘please’ again. But Dean can hear him and Dean understands his baby brother perfectly.

“When’s he joining the party?” 

“Told ya…” Jeremy’s stern voice calls from somewhere in the background. “After Sammy takes his first load. Unless..?” Sam feels a hand caressing his rear, the touch is unwelcomed but better than the previous assault. Or the next. “Dean and I are gonna have a bit of a chat, aren’t we buddy…?” 

“Ngaa! … Nghaa…!” Sam shouts, bucking himself closer to the bar when he feels someone stand up behind him. 

Recognises the motions, the feel of a warm body pressing against his own. The familiarity works as a reminder of the pain he had felt. His head crashes into the person sitting on the bar, but, they welcome him, arms slowly wrap around his head, holding him to their chest in an almost loving way. A hand brushes at his hair, although the majority of it is caught under the blindfold.

Sam whimpers a weak 'get off of me' that doesn't sound anything like that. Did he even make any noise at all? The damn recordings can be heard again and Sam hates hearing his voice.

"You ready to go again?" The man soothes as a hand softly brushes against Sam's cheek. 

He shakes his head, rubbing the blindfold against the other man's chest and it almost feels like the blindfold might fall from his face. _'N-No… They can't… I can't...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for your patience...  
> I have been working feverishly on this and chapter Five is almost ready to be uploaded. :) 
> 
> I hope this chapter is satisfactory, the plot bunnies have done an amazing job at distracting me...


	5. Chapter Five

**Dean’s POV**

_It’s what Sam doesn’t know that won’t hurt him. Poor kid is in enough pain as it is and Dean can’t bare to put any additional stress on him. Dean knows where the cup is, the whole event has been a constant battle between what he knows he has to do and what is right._

_'it's my fault' His mind starts to repeat and eventually he repeats it enough that he believes it. 'Should have just handed the fucking cup over! Sam never needed to be involved…' But part of him knows that he can’t hand the artifact over. Dean doesn't know much about it, but he knows if dad hid it away, it means that mortal men shouldn’t have access to it._

_Dean always assumed it was much like the Lucky Penny or finding a Genie in a lamp and that dad just hadn’t found a means to destroy it yet. He knows dad had discovered the cup after his tenth birthday. Back when hunting and storytelling were much the same thing to the old man._

***

Dean can see them, Jeremy’s guests, all of them. He’s watched Jeremy pacing the wooden floor, somewhat stumbling back and forth between Sam and himself, asking stupid questions under his breath, making sure Dean’s eyes stay on his brother. He’s glared up at Christian with hate and a warning for the second Dean gets his thieving hands on anything that even remotely symbolises a weapon. His muffled cries and screams have gone unanswered as he watched Jessie force himself inside of Sam, pushing his mediocre length inside of a place it was never meant to be. His voice started to crack and become raw when all of the guests gathered to size their naked cocks up, to see who would have first shot at his younger brother. 

All of the guests, except the weird bulky guy sitting on Dean's left, the guy who’s sat in the same chair the whole time. He’s barely even touched himself or said a word at all.Not that Dean had yet witnessed anyway. He’s the only one that might just live through this.

 _’Surely! Surely he can see this isn’t right!?’_ Dean’s mind screams just before he starts to lose control of his emotions again and starts to blindly scream into the gag. The least he can do is let Sam know that he’s still here. Still here and still watching. So Sam knows he isn’t alone. But something about this guy makes Dean feel unnerved, he's just sitting there on his phone, but not to take photos or to record the twisted event, Dean squints in his direction- He looks like he’s texting someone. It's not the worst thing the older brother has watched, but this is the same guy who keeps playing those fucked up recordings, the ones he and Sam were threatened and forced to speak into. The false permission tapes.

Dean’s worst memory of the night so far was watching Jessie hold Sam while the other two forced the gag into his mouth. It hurt Dean’s heart to watch Sam trying pointlessly to shake his head, unable to push them away. The way the boys hands clenched around the ropes as he twisted in their hold.

Several hours ago, Dean had scoffed down the remains of a potato and leek pie, well, he almost introduced it to the bar’s floorboards when he watched the young kid with the blue tank top unzip himself as he made his way to the other side of the bar. The young bastard nearly tripped over his own pants as he pulled his legs through and discarded them. Dean wished he had, wished he tripped and that his head had found shattered glass or the corner of one of the countertops or the taps, anything. His blonde beach-haircut reminds Dean of when Sam was seventeen, right before Dean started to give his brother shit for having longer hair. 

He shook his head and internally begged Christian to stop it. God did he beg. But all his efforts went unnoticed. He’s been feverishly trying to work out some way to shift the focus onto himself since the start but nothing he does gets anyones attention.

He occasionally throws a look to the weird guy sitting two meters on his left, but the guy just keeps his head forward, occasionally checking his phone, his hand covering his mouth like he's wiping it, but now that Dean thinks about it. Something about him is off. He doesn’t belong in this crowd, with these hunters. He hits rewind on Sam's tape and clicks play- again. At the same time he turns the second recorder over again and again in his hand. He chances a glance in Dean's direction, but then slowly turns his eyes forwards.

 _'Listen to it! C'mon, You know something's off!'_ As the thoughts scream in Dean's mind with a small muffled noise. Sam is finally allowed to breath and the weird bulky guy looks up in Dean's direction again, eyes flicking over him and Dean glares at him, pleadingly. _'Damnit! You **know** something's wrong!'_

The other two hunters have mostly been drinking their weight in alcohol, whistling and shouting out verbal cues. They both look as though they could belong to a biking group or some sort of hunting club. None of the men here are hunters he knows. Hell, he’d only ever met Jeremy twice in his life when he was hunting with the old man. 

Sam's bucking and twisting and Dean slowly moves his hands, the last two times he started feeling the long lines of rope Christian had caught him and whispered a warning, reminding Dean that there were men here more than happy to bend him over the very same pool table he was currently tied to.

One of the random men drinking between Sam and himself whistles as he raises his glass in Dean's direction. 

"When's he joining the party?"

The question quickly catches Jeremy's attention, he smirks as he paces casually closer towards Dean.

“Told ya…” Jeremy says sternly as he finally looms over his untouched victim. “After Sammy takes his first load... Unless..?” His voice lingers with playfulness and Dean slowly turns his gaze from the bulky guy up to Jeremy, he crouches to meet Dean's gaze, barely an inch from Dean's scrunched up face. “Dean and I are gonna have a bit of a chat, aren’t we buddy…?”

“Ngaa! … Nghaa…!” Sam shouts, bucking against the bar, Dean sees why but forces his eyes to stay on Jeremy. Because, if he wants this to end, he needs to cave and he needs to promise to give the old man what he came for. But in truth, Dean's plan is to agree just long enough to snap Jeremy's neck, steal the weapon he's got concealed in his back pocket and then just hope there's enough bullets to kill the rest of these bastards.

The gun Jeremy is sporting only holds six bullets, Dean knows exactly what order he intends to shoot. By the time he has the gun, Jeremy will be a heap on the floor, his head twisted inhumanely. Christian gets the first bullet. Zero hesitation. And as Christian falls, Dean will be too busy lining up Jessie and the kid in the blue muscle shirt, they're so close together, Dean wonders if he can line them up, take them out with one bullet.

His very next focus is Laurel and Hardy sitting backwards on their chairs, hearing the pair laugh and watching them excitedly rub themselves through their unzipped, grubby jeans has done nothing but boil the blood pumping through Dean’s system. Dean expects they wouldn't hesitate to follow through and get off on watching his brother be used like some common house whore.

Creepo- Who is tapping one of the recorders on his knee curiously, with his mobile in his other hand. Dean's decides he'll hold the gun in his face and ask him why he didn't stop it. _'He knows something’s wrong, that this ain't right…'_ Dean repeats. _'Anyone would be an idiot if they didn't... And unless authorities turn up anytime soon, he'll get a bullet too. Everyone dies tonight.'_

"You ready to go again?" Blue douchebag says, Dean hears the soft words and flicks his eyes to his brother for a fraction of a second before staring back at Jeremy. His face is like steel glaring down at him. Unmoving and just curious. The older Winchester brother can't help but narrow his eyes at the son of a bitch as he holds back a snarl. _'What's he waiting for?'_

“All you had to do was take me to the cup," He states cooly, looking over his shoulder and in Sam's direction. "In a minute, Jessie's gonna get all, back up inside of your brother and that guy? He's gonna hold Sam down, until baby brother is choking on that dick…" Dean growls, his nose twitches angrily as a small voice inside of him begs him not to react. For Sammy's sake. The fabric gag pushes and holds his tongue down and in some sense Dean feels grateful for it. His tongue gets him in more trouble these days and he can’t help but wonder what he might have spit at Jeremy if it hadn’t been there. 

"Aw, shit don't give me none of that shit!" Jeremy suddenly whispers, "I'll give you a chance to stop it. You nod your little head and tell me where that cup is now and this all stops" He’s quite the showman, his hand is flat and making small circle motions in front of Dean’s face, Dean doesn’t waiver. He keeps his head forward and locked on Jeremy, even when Sam makes a distressing sound and finally Dean starts nodding, his need to protect his brother riding above all the other emotions that are swirling around.

"Of course, if you choose to hold out, I got a gag just like your brothers. And we will turn you around. Won't even tie ya up. I’ll just have a couple of the boys hold you down instead." he scoffs like what he's just said is amusing. Dean's already moving his head up and down. Agreeing to the conditions. In his mind, he sees the stupid cup, hidden in a locker in one of his fathers little storage units, somewhere in Montana in a small town between Billings and Butte. “And let me tell you, it’ll be a long fucking night…”

The biggest problem is, Dean has no idea where he is right now, the three men bailed him up at his hotel room and for the life of him he has no idea where he is. He could damn well be anywhere. He knows they've held him captive for three or four days now. They must have always known where Sam was- but how? Dean didn't have a damn clue where his brother was on the map.

"Untie these ropes, keep his arms bound," Jeremy directs Christian “And keep both eyes on ‘im…” He turns his attention to Dean, leaning into the older brother to whisper, "Everyone thinks you're willing to be here- So **do not** kick up a fuss, you just do as your told for the next few, Or that'll break any deal we got, Am I clear?" 

Dean nods. How can he not? Jeremy gets up from his kneeling position and Dean watches helplessly as he stalks closer to his little brother, Dean’s heartbeat gallops in his chest as Jeremy taps Jessie on the shoulder, whispering to him and Dean repeats in his head over and over again not to react. 

Christian unties the ropes that hold him to the pool table and pulls Dean to his feet. He cringes a little at the movements and that tells him the welts have turned to bruises across his torso. His arms are still bound behind him and his feet are somewhat connected by a short piece of rope which really does nothing, but it is a nuisance. The older Winchester has to bite back all his natural instincts. He bites down knowing that he wouldn't make it past the pair of dipshits in the centre, the pair watching Sam from afar. He knows the pair would easily over power him in this state

"Brothers, things are changing a little…" He grabs a drink from the bar and finishes the alcoholic beverage at top speed and extends his hand out to the blindfolded Sam. "Jessie here, is gonna be calling the shots while i'm out, he has a solid understanding of the boys limits and knows the safeword, but i doubt this little slut'll use it."

The surrounding men cheer with a small hint of laughter and Dean watches Hardy nudge his partner in the arm excitedly. He turns his head slightly and from the corner of his eye he sees Creepo. The man gets up from his seat and slips his phone into his pocket before approaching the bar for a drink. Dean wants to snap at him. But, there is nothing he can do, not with the gag in place. 

And with the promise that Sam will be walking out of this mess sometime soon, Dean stands quietly. Because he has to. “Alright, boys, enjoy the view while we chat to Dean outside,” He nods and Christian accepts the cue to push Dean’s shoulder, turning him toward the only exit.

The moist, cool air hits Dean in the face as he is pushed outside, the wooden doors giving way and letting Christian and the Winchester pass. A rough hand on his shoulder guides Dean back to the red pick up truck he’s grown to know, the sight of it is enough to make the grown man shiver, but the thought of his own sitting alone at the hotel makes his heart clench and something inside him tries not to cry. Christian’s firm hand guides him to the front of the pickup truck and with his hand moving to the back of the Winchester’s neck he pushes Dean over the front of it. Kicking his leg out for good measure.

The doors open and close behind him and while Christian yanks the fabric from his mouth Jeremy pulls some papers from the truck. A map. 

“You let him go-” Dean spits.

“You show me where the cup is.” Jeremy’s face is firm and Dean knows this isn’t a fight he will win.

“Not until I know my brother is safe!”

“I don’t think you have much choice right now, do you?” Christian scoffs and as he does Sam can be heard screaming from inside the bar.

“The hell are they doing to him!?” Dean feels his heart starting to race again, running in a marathon it can’t hope to win.

“Tell me where it is and you can find out.” 

Dean’s eye flick, left and right, then left and right again. He’s out of options and he knows it. They know it. Hell, at this point Sam probably knows it.

“M-... Montana. It’s in Montana… Let him-”

“Where! In Montana.” Jeremy looks up at Christian, nodding slightly at the other man. “I ain’t crossing the whole damn state.”

“Let him go and I’ll tell you!” 

Wrong answer. Christian pulls Dean up and forces his face back into the red pickup, had Dean not anticipated the motion he could have damn near broke his nose. It was a warning shot, Dean has no doubt he’ll be left broken and bloody before they take off to get the artifact.

“Where. in Montana?” Jeremy repeats, his vocals strong and firm.

“B-... B- Between Butte and Billings… There’s a small place, just by Four Corners…” Dean admits with a shaky voice, because he doesn’t know what happens now. Sam is naked and stuck inside, he's bound and trapped over the hood of a car. “Y-You know where it is. N… Now let him go.” 

A moments silence drafts over the three men, Christian and Jeremy share a glance and it becomes apparent that they either didn’t expect to get this far or there is something else, maybe a little larger at play. 

“You know where it is,” Dean repeats voice feeling overwhelmed with strength, he pulls and tugs in Christians rough grip but Christian isn’t having any, using his body he pins Dean to the red pickup, “I’ll be coming for you- All of you! So you better get yourselves a head start, you son of a bitch!” He blurts. He never even had a chance to stop the words before they tumbled past his lips and out into the cool air. 

“Hold him.” Jeremy says with no hints of emotion in his tone and Christians hand tightens around the back of his neck, holding him down against the cold, wet steel of the truck.

Dean closes his eyes tightly in anticipation. Tenses his muscles and digs his shoe into the mud and waits for Jeremy to strike him. He knows Jeremy will need to knock him out, so he knows he is going to wake up with one hell of a headache. Dean wonders loosely if the older hunter will go as far as to break his limbs. _’...I know I would…’_

But none of that comes. Not yet anyway. Instead, Dean feels a jab, a scratch and before he’s got a chance to respond Jeremy is pulling away.

“What did you do?” Dean snaps. “What did you injec-” He feels heat rising through his body, unluckily Dean has been drugged before so he knows that is just the effects of whatever is now zipping through his system. The heat swirls through him, finding the tips of his limbs and sets his whole self on fire. Christian is still holding him to the truck, but Dean notices that he isn’t holding him down as tightly and that’s because he can feel Dean drooping in his grasp.

“Just a little something…Tighten his legs up and get him in the truck… And you,” Jeremy directs at Dean, “You better hope it’s there, cause if it ain’t. You’ll only be in the truck waiting for me.”

His eyelids are heavier suddenly and Dean knows he’s due to drop into unconsciousness any second now. _‘Sam. No! I can’t- Sam!’_ He hopes he managed to scream the words but he knows, somehow he knows that he didn’t.


	6. Chapter Six

**POV CREEPO**

Something felt off about the whole damn affair. The second i saw that boy up against the bar, squirming and pleading for the men to let him go. I thought it was cute, thought he was in very good character, but then they said that name. Sam Winchester. Something about that name was far too familiar.

I rewound the tapes and listened again as the men gathered in between the Winchester brothers and there was something there, something that stirred uneasy in my gut when they patted the kid on the back.

The way the older brother seemed to try to get our attention. It wasn't until I listened to those tapes again that I realised exactly who these boys were.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't know much about the elder boy, about Dean. But let me tell you, I know all about Samuel. Sammy, the moose kid. I have a hunting buddy that never stops talking about him. About how precious the kid is, how pure and golden the boy is.

He never was good at sharing, my friend that is. And the way he sees it, Moose boy is his.

So I had to warn him. You just don't know this guy like I do. His possessiveness over the young Winchester is unmatched. Completely unlike anything i've seen. So yeah, I flew him a message.

**TEXT: 'i'm at a hunter gathering. Your marked moose is here…'**

I tapped my phone against my leg nervously, six other men were preparing themselves for a classic night of gentlemen fun And while I tower over most of the others, I didn't exactly want to join Sam in the centre. A small glance at the older boy confirms my thoughts.

**TEXT: 'This is not a consensual event, i'm sending you my location.' **

That is when they dragged the older boy outside. I'm only one man and my focus needed to be the younger boy, it'd have been far too suspicious to go after Dean.

Besides, it looked like the remaining four men were about to give Sam far more than the boy could chew. Jeremy walked past me, brushing shoulders as he tells me to enjoy myself and Jessie looks like he's lining himself back up to ride that kid all night long.

We did gather for things like this, once a quarter, sometimes twice in the winter. Normally in some dusty, abandoned bar. Usually with different groups. But not like this. It was always consensual and this clearly was not.

I really only know Christian, Jessie and Jeremy. Had seen the boy a couple of times, but he never really involved himself until today. Normally he was satisfied with a quick wank on the side lines. Watching him getting close to the entertainment was something a little new.

Several long minutes later, the doors open and close again and I glance over my shoulder watching as Christian comes back inside, eyes glued to the prize tied to the bar. Seems to me Jeremy and Dean aren't returning because that was easily twenty minutes ago and the boys are telling Sam just what they plan to do to him.

***

**BEN'S POV**

It's been a rough month. 

Hell, three weeks ago I caught the girlfriend in my bed with a guy that I- I- I didn't even know. We'd been dating for three years! And even though she cried and begged me not to leave I had to do exactly that. What- What else was I meant to do? She blew up any trust or faith that I had in her. No, I put my hands in my pocket, pulled out the small jewelry box and dropped it to the carpet before I turned myself around.

I was never much of a drinker either but tonight I've had nearly double my weight in the provided beer and why shouldn't i? Drinks are free!

I'm doing a lot of new things tonight. Celebrating the emptiness in my soul since leaving my whole world behind. My job at the local supermarket, my- my dog and the house. They're all gone now. And whatever, She can have 'em! I have my truck and my rifle. Oh, and the boys from the local hunting club. I haven't shot none yet- But, Bernie did say he'd take me down to a place he saw a nice prize buck.

Hunting is all i have, we're like a family, a bizarre, disjointed family. The way the boys talk about it though, the anticipation, the adrenaline and the marksmanship. I'm excited to pull the trigger on my first buck. But tonight, the buck is against the bar, cradled in my arms. 

I see something reflecting through tonight's entertainment, something eager that reminds me of her. His mouth held open and as I slip my dick past the metal, I'm engulfed in wet heat. She never did this for me and I ain't never pressured her for it. My hand bunches in his hair and I hold him down and watch him cough over my prized cock all day. I didn't really want to hurt him, but, er- Jeremy- Jeremy insisted on us all being at least a little rough with him.

Never heard of a hunter named Sam or Dean Winchester before. Not out here in Wyoming anyway. But they were willing to be tonight's entertainment. Brother's doing this sort of shit together? The pair are twisted. But I need this. I- I just need this.

I let him breathe because I can't imagine the others would be too impressed if he were to pass out and when he falls forward it feels right to put my hand in his hair. I'm not that way inclined, not really into men, but i found it natural to hold him when he fell against my chest. My small hands in his hair, soothing him as he gasps against me.

He's been fighting and disagreeable for most of the night, i don't think i'd trust his mouth without the gag. But he did feel good. No argument about that at all. Don't think i've felt this hard in a long time. My balls are so tight and full and-

Jessie is approaching, his hard cock hanging out from the fly in his jeans. I can tell what he wants to do and I can't wait to feel Sam's throat clenching around my cock. Anticipation shatters inside of me. I want to blow my load down his throat and feel him swallowing me down. The thought has me leaking. Legs shaking with excitement.

"Ready to go again?" I whisper, my arm pressing him closer to me, holding him like I once did with my girl. My cock feels so hard, so tight. It needs that warm mouth to slick it up. I hum appreciatively when Jeremy approaches.

The older hunter whispers to Jessie, but anyone close enough hears him.

"I'll be taking Dean for a small drive… Close up in about two hours and I'll see you back at the Lost spring."

I guess it makes sense that Dean wouldn't want to really get involved, i don't know any men or women who'd want to be used at the same time as a sibling. But, Why'd he also record a consent tape then. Doesn't make much sense to me. But, anyway, I look around at the men waiting for their turn, it's looking like i won't be getting a drawn out shot tonight, but honestly i don't mind. It's my first time approaching the bench and we all know that sometimes the event is closed up early.

There's a bit of build up, Jessie reaches around and gives Sam a couple of tugs, i hadn't looked before but his cock ain't all that hard. Probably the lack of stimulation. Some men are like that. He moans appreciatively as Jessie continues to tugs on the half erect manhood.

"Can't wait to get my cock in that wet mouth of yours again," I tell Sam as I hold him to my chest, stroking his hair around the leather of the gag and the fabric blindfold.

At first I thought Christian was going for a drive as well, but he must have just needed to take a leak. I don't remember when he came inside, but, he's suddenly at the bar pouring more drinks. It'll be another hour or so before they call last drinks. I'll have hit the road by then. 

"Here, Sam, c'mere," Jessie coaxes, his hand snaking under the young Winchesters chin as he pulls Sam from my hold and into his own reverse bear hug. "Now, Sam, Don't be daft- you know what happens now," A few light chuckles fill the bar and i can't help my own little smirk when i feel my dick twitch in my hand.

"Gonna fill you up from both ends now, ain't we kid?" Jessie asks winking in my direction, his face curls into a cruel smile. It's all for show, Sam would have been briefed about all this and would've given some sort of verbal consent.

"Yeah," I sing song, reaching my hand out to stroke along Sam's opened jaw. Man, that looks painful, "Gonna love having that mouth stretched over my dick, you little cock slut..."


	7. Chapter Seven

Sam inhales a sharp breath then pulls back and away from the bar. Not that it does him any good because Jessie has a firm hold on him, both hands spread over the young Winchesters hips. He holds Sam in place as Ben strokes the hair on the crown of his head, being careful to avoid the blindfold.

"An' who's been a good boy?" Jessie asks venomously as he pushes his spongy cock head between Sam's ass cheeks, the head quickly finds the opening and Jessie continues to teasingly rub the flared head over the hole again and again in warning. "Gonna give you one hell of a treat!" the older hunter warns.

A whimpering sound vibrates at the back of Sammy's throat and he feels his legs tremble as he repeats mentally that he doesn't want this. Apparently, for this small period, he has all but given up on verbal communication.

Long ropes of drool trickles down his chest and Sam barely manages to keep the vomit at bay, He feels the cockhead leaking against his hole and it isn't long before Jessie is smearing the sticky substance over and against the sensitive skin there. His wrists and ankles are rubbed raw, his hands have zero feeling, he swears he can feel pricks of blood in some places, but Sam can't let that deter him, he shifts his right hand and tries pointlessly to force his fist through the loops of rope, but, nothing he does makes them any looser.

"Nnghh!" The young Winchester jolts forwards in a useless attempt to escape as Jessie's dick passes the tense ring of muscle. Ben's hand is tangled softly in his chestnut locks and holds him for a moment as the surrounding hunters cheer their friend on.

"Yeaahhh~"

"Make that boy sing!"

Sam makes a pathetic sound as his teeth search over the metal for a weakness, the circular bar forces his jaw to stretch open and no weakness would ever be found, not unless Sam suddenly had enough jaw strength to snap steel. His tongue subconsciously keeps busy; pushing and prodding the steel, testing it, it presses over Sam's dried lips to keep them moist, his tongue is easily the most overworked muscle right now. 

He whimpers against Ben's chest with a noise that sounds too close to arousal as the weight of Ben's hand starts to dawn on him.

"Shit, you're a tight bitch!" Jessie moans, his vocals growling as he digs his nails into his captives' sides, "Ah…! Shit, little Slut…"

"Just swallowing that dick up, aren't ya?" A voice that is surprisingly close cheers and seconds later Sam feels a sharp pain on his hip where the excited watcher has struck him with an open palm.

"Alright, Come on…" Ben soothes, his hand gets heavier on Sam's head as he pushes Sam's aching jaw downwards.

"Nnn-" Sam starts and jolts his body back into Jessie when the musky scent fills him and for a split second he feels suspended just as he is, stuck between the two warm bodies with nowhere to run, no direction to pull, no give or weak spot in the ropes to take advantage of and noone to save him. 

Jessie groans in appreciation as Sam's body involuntarily twitches and squeezes around his hard length, "Good… Boy…" Jessie muses with a hand caressing Sam's hip.

"It's alright," Ben's voice coaxes as his hand pushes down on the top of Sam's head, he admires Sam's strength, the way the hunters shoulders tense and how he seems to want to fight the whole way through "You don't have to fight so much, you know." 

And it's in that moment Sam remembers that as far as most of these guys know _he agreed to this_. He chokes on a sob with that thought as tears bead up in the corner of his eyes and as the young Winchester tries to shake his head Ben grips the blindfold and forces his head down further, further until the tip of his dick wipes salty pre cum over Sam's top lip.

"NGH!" Sam tightens his jaw over the metal and tries to pull up because he can't let them do this to him. Jessie is rocking behind him, building a rhythm, panting against his back and working him open. On a rough thrust Sam's body is forced to take in a large drag of oxygen. Musty and tasting of testosterone but oxygen nonetheless.

Sam exhales as the thick pull of flesh drags out of him, and when Jessie pushes back in, Sam takes another large suck of air, except this time Ben pushes in and Sam sucks in the salty flesh of Ben's half hard cock.

He instantly goes to scream again, tensing in panic at the sudden lack of air and both Ben and Jessie moan in appreciation. 

"Really know how to please, don't you, you little slut?" Jessie groans out as he pulls all the way out and pushes his spongy dick back to Sam's hole. It bends slightly before it pushes into the small space.

Sam bucks in place, but he has nowhere to run or hide, his knuckles are turning chalky white as he grips far too tightly on the hemp rope. Jessie pushes back in as Ben finally pulls his cock out, holding Sam's head down with one hand and Sam shouts out gibberish as his rear is once again filled. He feels his eyes rolling back and his body arching as his muscles twitch and spasm.

Ben's moaning and verbally praising Sam as he pushes his cock back to Sam's unprepared mouth and just before Sam's mouth is entirely full, for whatever reason he tries to shout out again. The hand clenches on the top of his head and a breathless cuss word whispers out of him.

"Y-You done this- Ah! Before, haven't you? you s-slut…" 

He never stood a chance and he knows it. Especially when Jessie starts up a much faster rhythm, skin slapping skin with a sickening sound and a hard cock drilling in and out, in and out of both ends at different speeds and when Jessie finally strikes Sam's prostate the flannel-wearing hunter knows he is lost.

He grips the ropes tightly as an electric tingling sensation drives from somewhere deep within him, he doesn't know where it starts but it hits every nerve ending on it's way to his fingertips. He gasps around the cock in his mouth and he wishes he could stop his vocals from vibrating, but nothing he says or does is going to stop either man until they reach a certain end. Ben squirms above him, moaning in a never ending spur of lost, appreciative sound and it doesn't take much more for his hips to start thrusting against Sam's face in an unfashionable matter.

Ben's close and he knows it. Jessie knows it too. Hell the whole damn bar knows it and Sam. Sam knows too.

"God! Oh- Yeah-Yeah…! Ugh!... I'm gonna… I'm-…" Ben snaps his hips up and all Sam can taste is the twitching salty flesh of Ben's cock as it strikes the back of his throat. When the first dollop of semen shoots and drools onto unhappy taste buds his gag reflex begs for the bile to be released and for one final second longer than he'd like to admit Sam's survival instincts finally kick in at the lack of new air.

"Fill that mouth!" Someone yells from the background. But Sam is much too busy squeezing his eyes shut and pretending that he isn't anywhere near this bar.

Sam gags against the hard, pulsing flesh as Ben releases a surprising amount . His throat contracting and clenching around the tip of Ben's dick and unintentionally causing Ben more pleasure than the younger hunter can handle. "Give it to him!" another voice shouts. Sam bucks back with a muffled yelp and Jessie bucks straight back into him forcing his head forward and forcing his throat to intake more cock and less oxygen.

In this moment, Sam's mind convinces him that this is how it all ends; choking on cock nd semen. Panicked, Sam attempts to scream and buck, but the noise is cut off when Ben's body finally spasms. Hands are quick and rough on the top of the young Winchester's head, holding his open mouth down in Ben's lap as he moans out his pleasure. 

Before long, Ben is thrusting the last spurts with a softened cock, he leaves it in Sam's mouth for a bit more heat before reluctantly pulling himself out.

"Thanks guys, I really… _Really_ needed that.. " Ben says with a nod and happy sigh. He moves backwards off the bar and is handed a shot glass, which he downs in one gulp."whoa… wow…"

Meanwhile, Jessie shows no signs of slowing down and Sam dazzely assumes that he is chasing his own orgasm. Jessie has one hand holding on to Sam’s hip, his other hand grasping roughly at his shoulder, pulling Sam into each painfully abrupt thrust. Sam tries to focus but the taste abusing his tongue is strong and the substance is revolting, it’s alien and Sam can feel the thick bile preparing to meet the floor.

Instinctively Sam tilts his head down towards the floor and prepares to vomit, the front thought that some male stranger had just relieved himself and blew their _mess_ in his mouth. That’s all he needs to think about before the bile is heaving past his teeth. His stomach cramps and for the relatively small moment the reality of what Jessie is doing doesn’t hit him at all.

Vomit and semen flows out in long drools when another stranger with rough hands is quick to grab his hair and jerk his head back up.

"What d'ya think yer doing?!" The voice snarls with a hint of amusement. "Someone gives you something to drink yer say thank you! You don't spit it out, you ungrateful piece of shit!"

"You tell 'im!" Someone laughs in the background.

“Hey, kid, pass us that!” The guy snaps his fingers a couple of times ignoring Sam’s groans of displeasure. Laughter erupts around Sam, the sharp sounds ricocheting off the surrounding walls and a dizzy feeling quickly returns.

“Yeah! Give it to ‘im!” Someone loud bursts from behind.”Let that boy have a drink, ha!”

“Don’t say we don’t give ya nothin’ yeah.” His grip is unforgiving and Sam feels the stinging tell of hairs coming loose in the man’s grasp with each continued jerk of Jessie’s hips.

_**Pop!** _

The sound is the only warning he gets before his throat is suddenly flooded with some cheap wine. Sam realises he only has two options... swallow or drown. So he gulps. And he gulps it down fast because the other hunters aren’t relenting, he tries to breathe through his nose but for some ungodly reason his nostrils are burning with each small snag of air. Jessie’s pace has slowed down and suddenly comes to a halt, buried deep inside of the younger hunter, he waits for Sam to splutter around the neck of the wine bottle before he pulls back again. The wine tastes cheap and foul, but he isn’t complaining because it tastes a hell of a lot better than semen.

The wine is poured faster than Sam can swallow and when his mouth fills, it spurts out from the sides, quickly soaking his chin and chest in fast rolling trickles of a cool and eventually sticky substance. Finally the bottle is pulled out from the spider gag, his hair is let go and his head falls down to a comfortable position. Unknowingly the bottle is held above Sam's head.

It startles him at first, though Sam muses that it really isn’t the worst thing to have happened during the night but, he hopes that they're done humiliating him. Wine drenches his body. Down his back, across his front, it soaks the blindfold and the hunters share a laugh as it turns his hair multiple shades darker. Jessie enthusiastically licks the wine from Sam's skin, pulling his still hard cock from Sam before pushing it eagerly back in.

"There we go," Jessie laughs with a grunt, "You like that don't ya, Sammy?" Sam can only grunt in response.

*****

**POV JESSIE**

If i had to be honest, this wasn't what i had planned in the back of my head when we were sharing beers with Jeremy in a state much too far from here, in a town i don't remember the name of. All I do remember was that hot bartender with the deep green eyes and large handful of breasts. She was a beauty. Oh, and of course the way Jeremy spoke of someone named John Winchester. Some slimeball who had double crossed him some time ago. 

Now, I already know what you're thinking and no, i didn't know John or little Sammy. Not on a personal level anyway- sure, you hear that name and a handful of bonfire stories, but. I didn't know 'em. My interest was all about Dean Winchester, the little man slut who took my sister to bed and decided he was much too good for some decent protection. Yeah, the prick knocked up my little sister and left her to handle the rest. So beating him with the cue was long overdue. And I hope I get a second shot at that mongrel. Because i ain't overly satisfied if i'm honest.

I've known Jeremy a while, and he has spoken about John frequently and the cup that the man stole. Shiny in colour and the rumour is; on the soul of the cup is a map that leads to treasures unknown to man… Or some bullcrap like that. Anyway, Jeremy researched and hunted out the cup's location, he hired a guy to help him retrieve it, the best in the bizz. Only, he hired the man named John Winchester. Jeremy got left behind by John in some chaos and by the time he caught up with the old man, he refused to hand it back, I later found out he'd been killed over as a result of some car accident- or truck accident- or something. God rest his soul i'm sure.

But then a rumour found Jeremy's ears that John's boys survived. So he comes to Christian and me. Tells us he'll split the treasure cost. We just gotta help him find Dean. Dean is daddy's little favourite, John taught him everything he knows which we hoped included the location for the damn cup. Except. When we find the little asshat he doesn't wanna talk. So Jeremy concocts a second plan and starts getting Dean to do the recording. Not gonna lie to y'all, i thought it was a scare tactic until we got a tip from a guy that unturned my guts. He seemed pretty normal, except, his eyes turned pitch black. I've seen some strange stuff and this line of work, killing monsters, is pretty black and white.

Christian and I, we ain't seen nothing like that before but Jeremy says for us to pay no mind of it. The guy made me uneasy in ways that i just can't explain to you, but he knew where the younger brother was. That's when Jeremy lets us in on the plan. We frequent a different kind of hunters club. Ya know, the types that hunt for bears and deer. Well, in one of the clubs, as i'm sure y'all guessed- they have _'entertainment night'_ a gentleman gathering. 

I'd been to at least one before, but usually the entertainment is female. Admittedly, females don't get me roaring, you know what i'm sayin'. But, Jeremy tells us that if the brothers don't relent that they'll be the entertainment for the evening. 

Christian, he didn't like it. And honestly, I hesitated at first too. But, I don't know. The idea of putting Dean in his place by violating his brother. The thought had me harder than nails. And when i saw the kid, heh, he ain't a kid, trust me. Phew.

Fast forward to now, now I'm about to fill this little bitch up, breed him hella good. Leaving both brothers in pieces and Dean- well, maybe he'll think twice before he knocks up another woman.

*** 

"I. Said. You like that … Don'cha Sammy!" Jessie bucks against Sam as he spits each word. His hips snapping forwards with no mercy as he chases his vengeful climax.

Sam has been mentally unavailable for a small while, trying feverishly to escape the reality that surrounds him. The sounds of men cheering, drinks being consumed, glass shattering, ideas being thrown around and the smell is awful, musky, salty. It reminds Sam of a school locker room. The ones he worked hard to avoid growing up.

"Oh, Fuck…" A voice groans and Sam hears the top of the bar squeaking as it strains to hold whoever belongs to that voice, "Give me that mouth!" He growls and Sam can only whimper, leaning away, "Gonna fill ya up boy!" His voice is enthusiastic and filled with urgency. Jessie thrusts his hand into Sam's drenched locks and pushes his jaw down over the new dick and if he's honest, he probably isn't fighting as hard as he should be anymore.

"YEAAHH!" The guys hand feels huge over the crown of the young hunters head. He has zero patience, bunches the wet chestnut hair and forces Sam's head up and down like he's dribbling a basketball. "Yes!" The guy hisses, "Thats it, Thats it, bitch, let me hear ya"

Sam hates it. More than he hates clowns. The sound is directly out of every blow job porno he's ever seen, the slurping as a dick is forced in and out of a wet space far too quickly. He gags, but nothing comes up. "Fuckin' take it!" And Sam hasn't got a choice, so he does exactly that.

"Yes! Fucking choke on it!" The guy growls with a shaky voice as he holds Sam's head down roughly, forcing too much cock into his victims mouth. 

Jessie groans happily and Sam feels why, his ass is involuntarily clenching around the intrusion and giving him one hell of a good time. 

"Swallow it! Take it all, gonna- Ah! Ahh!"

Sam tenses and instinctively yanks on the ropes that bind him to the bar. Nothing helps. The new guy's hips are stuttering against his face with a loud moan as he repeats the word 'yeah' over and over. The cock twitches the whole time with spurt after spurt of fresh cum.

"Swallow it!" The voice demands, and Jesus Christ, the young Winchester didn't know that cocks came in different flavours, there's gross and horrendous. And then there's this guy. The taste is foul and has Sam bucking back trying to get away from it but the hand in his hair only tightens and the command for him to swallow is barked at him again.

"That's it!" Sam is dry retching with the cock still in his mouth when Jessie leans over him, hand on one of his shoulders to force him back into the cock behind him. He bucks and God does he try to scream. He can't breathe. And then he can for two small seconds, before the new guy decides to warm his dick some more.

If he could see, he would notice the way Jessie's eyes have rolled back, how his orgasm is pending so closely to the surface, but he can't see. He can only feel as the cock pulls and pushes, it drags against his channel and pushes every feel-good button on the way in. Sam can feel his own eyes rolling back as his prostate is hit and how part of him never wants the feeling to end. 

However, on the drag out, he also feels a stinging sensation that is nowhere near enjoyable and cannot be anywhere near normal. Jessie finally gives Sam the warning he's been waiting for:

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck! uh-uh! Yes, yes!" Nails bite into his hip as Jessie's pace quickens. slapping Sam's exhausted body

Finally. **Finally.** The guy pulls out and moves back from the bar and Sam takes his first fresh breath since, he can't remember when. The taste in his mouth is still lingering but even if he could, Sam doesn't dare spit.

A shaky moan escapes Jessie and it isn't going to take much more for the hunter to finish himself, he bucks his last thrust and heaves his hips forwards, pressing his cock the furthest it's been, Sam feels his teeth clench over the metal bar that forces his lips apart. He can feel the cock twitching in the tight space as it fires off it's load. 

The two hunters are connected at the hip and Jessie rocks forwards, even though there's no more cock to give. Sam's taken it all. He partly collapses forwards with a whimper and a sigh.

"You- You're a good little fuck." Jessie says with exasperation. His cock is softening and eventually he pulls his prick from Sam's ass while the surrounding hunters applaud the pink shade of semen that now draws down Sam's inner thigh.

"you still have a long night, kid." Jessie pats Sam's hip as he steps away. "Who's up?" He calls as he finds a beer and a chair in the background.

Sam, however doesn't register the words, his mind is flashing in and out of some form of consciousness. He heaves for air and feels a cool breeze brush over his sweat slick skin. He's thankful that he can't see the damage, he doesn't want to know.


	8. Chapter eight

The weather has calmed down significantly since the whole ordeal started, the rain has stopped falling, the wind and thunder has retired and the signage hanging outside the bar no longer slam roughly against the bricks. The ground is still wet and messy with mud and indents from multiple car tyres. The outside world just doesn’t seem to exist beyond the wooden double doors. So when an unexpected car rolls up to the bar, the engine lightly roaring and it’s headlights flooding the front bar with light and multicoloured reflections, it makes everyone stop and turn. Jessie and Christian stop dead in their tracks as the colours once again rotate and illuminate the bar. The engine is quickly killed and whoever owns the vehicle is sure to join the room of hunters shortly.

Jessie and Christian share a concerned glance that no one else seems to notice because Jeremy isn't meant to be coming back and they aren't expecting any other arrivals. Creepo, sitting in the background gets to his feet and turns to the door, walking with heavy footsteps. 

“Hope ya’ll don’t mind, I invited a friend of mine to part-take in the… scenery here.”

Jessie let’s a breath gush from his lungs, a breath he wasn’t entirely aware that he was holding. The pair know damn well what sort of trouble they’d be left in if authorities were to do a drive by of the bar right now. It would end bad. It would end bloody.

Sam hears the doors open and close again, but he pays no mind to it, his focus is on Christians hands that are unbuckling the gag. 

As the gag is gently pulled from him Sam spits the drool from his lips and tries to rotate his jaw shut. The ache is still very present. So much that Sam barely registers that Christian is now hovering behind him.

"Are you gonna stop fighting now and start admitting that you love being our little slut?" 

"Please…" Sam exhales one hell of a shaky breath and hopes that Christian doesn't expect an answer from him too soon. With all that's happened, the events are starting to take their toll on the younger Winchester. "S-Stop… Enough…"

"Maybe we should tan his hide a little, Could use the cues?"

"Yeah, Pass one 'ere…'

Sam's mind fills in the blackness with another tiny whimper, teasingly showing him the cues and picturing Jessie holding it to his rear, just as he had with Dean's abdomen. With a gruff sound he shifts one leg out to balance himself better. 

A drop of sweat falls past his eye and forces the young hunter to flinch at the sting just as Christian grabs a handful of Sam's ass, slapping it lightly.

"I'm gonna give you a couple of warning shots until you're ready to play, alright, Feel this?" 

And Yes God damnit- he can feel it. The spongy cockhead wet with precum slapping against him. Probing and seeking an abused entrance. Sam feels how weak he is, how prepared he is to surrender to it all. But there is still a spark in him, still able to fight against this horrendous act of human violation. 

So when Christian asks him to repeat the words, and Sam knows he will, Sam tells himself that he needs to be willing to stand against them, stand tall and say _'No.'_ Because if he doesn't then it becomes consensual and they win.

"I want you to ask me nicely to fuck your sweet ass," His hand rubs over Sam's sweat soaked skin and he give one of Sam's globes a small number of taps."Say it." Christian warns, "Say Please fuck me."

A light chuckle fills the air. The guests all waiting patiently to see if Sam will give in and finally start enjoying himself openly. The laughter only grows in volume when Sam starts to shake his head, back and forth before he spits the word:

"...N-No…" 

He doesn't even recognise his own voice, so low, quiet and weak sounding. Sam doesn't know how much longer he'll be able to hold out, he's exhausted and by God does he want to throw in the towel. So much it hurts him physically. 

It's only the thoughts of Dean that keep him in one piece. And by 'one piece' you know we mean in the physical form because mentally Sam feels all the splits and cracks, his personalities splitting off into separate groups and just when he doesn't think his mind can be divided any further he feels cold, smooth wood press against his hip.

"Let's see if we can change your mind." Jessie says with a hint of humor in his tone. For a brief moment the smooth, wooden cue is lifted away and a whoosh and crack later, the pool cue is cracked against his rear.

Sam clenches his teeth on the first impact taking in a huge gasp of air. He knows that was just a warning shot, his eyes shoot open and a hot flush stretches over his skin. Embarrassment. Disbelief. Shock. It’s not the point that it didn’t hurt, it’s the fact that it’s happening at all. 

“That was just a tester, boy.” A voice growls on Sam's right hand side.

He sucks in two large breaths. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale and **TWACK!** The impact was much stronger this time, enough to get a small groan from Sam, but his teeth stay clenched and his defiance remains intact. 

**TWACK!**

“C’mon Sammy….” 

“Who’s a good boy? Huh?”

**TWACK!**

“Say it, Ask for that dick, boy!”

**TWACK!**

The blows are relatively hard and has some of the men commenting on how stubborn the younger Winchester really is. After the next shot Sam can’t help but gasp out a little, but still refuses to give in. Believing that it’s utter bullshit that they believe he ever will.

It’s a particularly hard hit to the back of his thighs that forces the young hunter's knees to bend, his face somewhat colliding with the bar top as his leg gives way.

“Ngh!” Sam grits, digging his heels into the bar floor, but, as he tries to hoist himself back to a more suitable position a hand quickly grabs the back of his neck, long fingernails digging into the skin. Sam’s convinced that he’ll bleed. The unknown hunter holds him down and if it weren’t for the ropes that are pulling on Sam’s wrists he probably wouldn’t mind so much. 

But, they are pulling and forcing already too red and too raw wrists to stretch their limits and be an even larger pain.

The cue is on Sam’s inner thigh now, brushing smooth, polished wood against his skin in warning of what’s going to happen if the defiance keeps up.

“Gonna beg for that dick yet, Sammy-boy?” A voice so direct that it has to be Jessie.

“N-N… No… T-This needs to stop... J-Just-” His voice is so shaky that Sam barely recognises himself. Part of him begs himself to just say it, beg them and get this all over with. Another part of him tells him that Dean is close, Dean isn’t far away. But what good is that? Sam heard Jeremy tell them to close up in two hours. So that means he just has to hold out until then.

Sam’s thoughts escape him when the cue moves up just a little higher nudging very sensitive skin and his mind partly snaps.

“H-Hey- Wh- Whoa…” He inhales a breath and holds it for a second too long that when he lets it go it comes out stuttered. “D-Don’t…” The cue is gone and Sam can feel it in the air. Jessie is preparing to strike him again. He wants to beg him not to hit him there. Not there of all places. But the words are tied up at the back of his throat and all that tumbles out is a strange gurgling and concerned whimper.

**TWACK!**

"NGHA!" The pool cue collides with the skin of his ass and while part of Sam is grateful, part of him knows as sure as the sun is going to rise tomorrow at dawn that the threat of striking his testicles is real.

**TWACK!**

The strikes are faster and harder. Sam feels the sting and heat and loss of thought. His mind is like one of those court rooms where both sides are just screaming at each other with no real outcome or solution in mind. Another strike has his mind spinning. He knows he needs to give in. The growing laughter and conversation doesn’t do him any favours. He knows he needs to give in. **TWACK!** That one really hurt and Sam feels tears on his burning cheeks.

He’s growling and gritting. He’s standing over the bar again and doesn’t even remember when that happened, when did that guy let go of his neck? Is he bleeding? **TWACK!**

“Gah!...” Sam grits his teeth and he’s sure, so sure, they’re gonna snap under the pressure.

“Say it Sam." **TWACK!** "Say 'Fuck my ass.'"

**TWACK!**

"NGH- AH! S-Stop!... Sto-op… please- please…G-Ah…" Sam sobs quietly behind the blindfold with a shattered mind, shards of it begging him to give in. He nods at the thought of it, getting it over with. That part of him is just louder than the rest of his other mindless thoughts. _Just give in, Sam, get it over with…_

"Pl-Please… Just do it…"

"Do what?" Snaps back the reply, voice thick with sugar sweet temptation and innocence.

"Don't make me-" **TWACK!** "Ngah!...Jesu- ah… Please…" The young hunter pants blindly, too tired to fight any longer and he feels the resistance slipping from him. He's convinced he can't take another hit.

"We ain't playing… Say it!"

"F-Fuck….M-Me... F-Fuck me… Jesus, Please..." 

"Well, now, that's better," Christian huffs amused, "Say it once more for me, Maybe add some manners."

 _'Too tired…'_ Sam tells himself. He can't fight anymore. A hand brushes his red, sore ass and he lets out a small hiss. The exhaustion has won. Some clattering behind him tells him that they've dropped the cue, so Sam doesn't even register that Christian is lining himself back up.

"Please fuck my ass…"

**POV CREEPO:**

I've tried not to be holding my phone, I don't need to be bringing myself any unwanted attention. And- Yeah- Look- Maybe i made the wrong call, maybe i should have just confronted 'em, but, hunters are a different breed of man. It doesn't matter anyhow, My buddy just arrived. 

I meet him out by the blue Volkswagen, surprised to see it if I'm honest, that isn't his hunting car and I really thought he'd be in the hunting truck. He steps out and:

"What are they doing to him?" He snaps angrily. 

"Hey- Whoa. You are gonna want to calm down, friend." I try to calm him a little but he is already pulling out the briefcase from the trunk, spamming it on the roof of the car and unhinging the locks.

"Did they hurt him? How did this happen?" He's making a bit of noise and I'm just glad there's no one around to watch the scene unfold.

"Hey." I don’t like to snap at him, he’s been a long time friend, someone I’ve known and hunted with for a long time, He’s gotten me out of some heavy times and never hesitated to help or offer assistance whenever I’ve needed it. He’s a good man. Kind. Religious. But sometimes he’s hot headed and can act without much thought and we can’t have that today, "I'm here to help. But we can't help him if they all pack and run. We gotta do this properly." Thankfully the words sink in and he nods at me while still holding the case, "Look, a bunch of us from surrounding hunting clubs will occasionally part-take in some gentlemen fun. It's all usually consensual. But i just- I knew something was wrong when I saw him."

"How did you know?"

“Normally, we have a bit of a meet ‘n greet. Have a bit of a chat about do’s and don’ts. But, Something was just off. We arrive and that’s was all done outside with Jerem-”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s the one that put all this together. We got a text early today and well-, Hell-, You know I don’t have nothing on since June left me. So, I figure there isn't any harm. I’m not doing a real lot these days. You know that.”

“So, you get a text with this place and time?”

“Exactly, these things can occasionally be spur of the moment, though, usually, it’s an end of month thing.”

“Okay. And then?”

“Yeah, so we all turn up and He’s out here with tapes-”

“Tapes? Like record tapes?”

“Exactly. Say’s that the entertainment is inside but, he’s a bit feisty. And into some serious rape fetish. Said the kid was eager to please but really wanted us to be rough as guts with ‘im.”

“And you all thought that sounded… good?”

“Hell, Man. This ain’t my first dip into some bondage play and you really can’t be one to judge. Some of the shit it is I know you do.” He goes quiet at my words. I feel a hint of guilt, maybe I offended him, “Sorry, Look… I got hold of the tapes because I worked out who the boys were realizing it’s that boy you’re interested in and there’s somethin- Here- Listen.” 

I pull out Sam’s confession tape and play it, there’s still something hidden in the boy’s voice. Anger or it could be fear. Either way it ain’t good.

“Don’t sound very consensual.”

“No. It doesn't. That's why i flew you a text. Figured you'd wanna know.”

We share a small glance before he finally asks what our plan is. what moves we intend to take. And I had been thinking about that, for a while actually. As I watched them spill the bottle of red all over the poor kid.

"They're all heavy drinkers in there. I bet we could just dose 'em with beers. But you are gonna need to keep your cool. Let me do the talkin'. Because you ain't gonna like what you see when we get inside."

With that I watch him click the briefcase and inside it hidden in perfectly cut grey foam are vials, tubes and syringes already filled with a lemon and lime mixture. Anesthetics. Our own mixture for taking down the small game that we generally hunt. Deer, rabbits, squirrels and assorted birds. We rarely shoot to kill and have always had pretty safe standards. Well, Until he took an interest in Samuel Winchester. The dosage got a little higher and I'll never forget the day we met for beers and he told me those chilling, yet enticing words:

**_"Finally shot down that moose..."_ **

He told me about the event, what he did, how he didn't even really do anything. We joked about what would come of it if he did. He promised he could never really hurt Sam or go after him like that. Unheard of and unreligious. But then three or so months down the line we catch up for beers again and he's singing a very different song.

He doesn't mean any harm, not really. The young Winchester doesn't even know who he is. My friend is clean and careful and uses a certain cabin. Well, he's got six cabins that he has set up across the states. It's impressive work. It really is.

Texas, Pennsylvania, Iowa, San Francisco, a fifth in Canada some place and right here in Wyoming. They're all the same set up, in the middle of nowhere, so it doesn't matter if the boy tries to scream, and all within a good drive. The spread means we have access to all nearby hunting grounds and for him, it means, he can stalk his moose and have easy access to one of his cabins no matter where the moose goes. heh.

We go over the plan once more and then i walk him to the bar doors and let him inside, his jaw instantly clenches at the sight. And so it should. Noone pays us any mind as we step in and we slowly make our way to the bar to get ourselves a drink.

"Tonic water with lemon for ya?"

"Please." He nods.

*****Note from the Author!!*****

For those interested in a bit of a background story- related to Creepo's friend: He is an OMC created by the devilish Deeranger and can be read upon in the following links:

"Anonymous Devotion"  
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649023

"Making the cut"   
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21145640/chapters/50325008

That'll keep y'all busy!!


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